


Runaways & Roadtrips

by SummerSetHaley



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, Past Abuse, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerSetHaley/pseuds/SummerSetHaley
Summary: Yang Xiao Long is looking for someone, and Blake Belladonna is running from someone.  In a weird way, they are exactly what each other needs, at exactly the right time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a modern alternate universe where Yang and Blake basically run away together. Definitely depictions of crime and violence and past mention of abuse, and there's a Thelma and Louise ish theme somewhere in there, but I swear there's a happy ending to be found. Eventually. Fic is ongoing, so endure at your own risk.

It was a split-second decision, an impulse. Yang couldn’t quite explain why she did it, why she _needed_ to do it, but she did it. She needed the answers and the freedom that came with them. She needed the escape like it was oxygen being deprived from her lungs. So she left. Ruby was in college classes now, her uncle was God-knows-where, and her father had picked himself up enough that she no longer had three thousand-pound ball-and-chains tethered to her ankles. There was nothing holding her back but her own fears, and Yang didn’t believe in cowering to something so simplistic as _fear_. She woke before the sun, packed a bag, loaded her bike, and hit the road. She didn’t look back and she wouldn’t, not until she found her.

* * *

 

Her first stop was in the only major city outside of her home-town Patch, Vale. She knew by word-of-mouth that Junior’s was the place to be if you weren’t looking for the, well, most desirable of people. It was a shabby nightclub in the downtown district by the docks. Strip-clubs and vape shops walled the club in on both sides. A small alleyway dipped behind, shadowing in the shady deals that Junior ran outside the back of his venue. Neon lights and flashing strobes highlighted the smoke screen of a crowd out front.

Yang parked her motorcycle around the corner, not far from the mouth of the back alley. She worked her way around front and promptly bypassed the outside crowd, approaching the bouncer. She slammed the oaf of a man with her best look--simultaneously inviting and intimidating, a flirtatious smirk and a dangerous glint to her red-tinged irises. It was entirely too helpful that she was also strikingly attractive, a blonde bombshell, and she _knew_. Yang Xiao Long was too confident for her own good. But it always paid off, because the bouncer’s eyes widened and he waved her in as the crowd gawked in awe.

Unsurprisingly and surprisingly, Yang turned heads as she waltzed into Junior’s. Clad in her trademark brown leather jacket, a bright and cheery orange shirt, tight black pants, and combat boots, she didn’t exactly blend in with the club’s aesthetic. All in the same, she blended in enough that she was as badass as the best of them, aviators sitting on the top of her mane of blonde waves.

Junior himself eyed the girl up and down as she approached the bar. He greeted her with the greasiest of grins and a smooth nod to the shelves of liquor behind him. Yang had to swallow her nausea at the middle-aged man’s predatory gaze, especially when it landed on her cleavage for a prolonged amount of time. She had been driving since she left Patch that morning and she was so _not_ in the mood to be ogled.

“What’s it gonna be, Blondie?” He asked.

“A shot of tequila and a cut to the chase. Have you seen this woman?” She whipped her scroll out and thumbed her way to a picture she had stared at for far too many nights. It was a mugshot of all things, but it was all she had.

“You a narc?” Junior replied with a jerk of his chin. Two women stepped up on either side of Yang, making the hair on the back of her neck raise. She was not deterred.

“Do I look like a cop?” Yang sighed, already losing the small amount of patience she had, “Have you seen this woman or not?”

Junior eyed her again, this time with suspicion. The two women, twins it seemed, took a step closer to Yang. Yang didn’t break eye contact with the man before her. He whipped out a bottle of tequila and poured her a shot. She downed the shot and waited, drumming her nails on the bar top.

He obliged. “Not in a long time. Few years, give or take. She stopped in after getting out of Vale High Security. Met with this guy who looked a lot like her. I think he was her brother. They split ways, and I never saw her again. And before you ask, I don’t know to where.”

Yang nodded curtly and pushed her glass forward. That checked out--she got out of prison, chatted with Qrow, and skipped town. But these were things that Yang already knew. She downed another shot of tequila and the two women behind her took another step forward. They were practically breathing down her neck.

“I don’t believe you.” Yang stared Junior down, irises burning a brighter red than lavender.

“Excuse me?”

Yang pushed her shot glass forward again, leaning over the bar, getting close enough to breathe in the musky scent of Junior’s aftershave. Her eyes never wavered from his and she heard the two women’s intake of shocked breath.

“I don’t believe you.”

Junior started to protest, jerking back, but Yang grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him back to her level. Her patience had ended. She knew this wasn’t a safe place but she was impulsive at best, always had been. And she had been in her fair share of fights back on the island of Patch.

“Listen to me, Blondie,” Junior spoke fast, spitting his words, “You don’t want to do this.”

“Where’d she go?” Yang demanded, yanking him forward some more, “I know you know.”

“Fuck you, you little shit--”

Yang’s fist snapped, colliding with Junior’s jawline with a satisfying crack. The two women behind her snapped forward. One whipped out a knife and the other donned brass knuckles. Yang snatched up the tequila bottle and swiftly smashed it into one of their heads, spinning on her heel. She didn’t spin fast enough, feeling the slice of a knife just above her hip, sheering her orange top, but she took the remains of the tequila bottle and jabbed it into the other assailant in retaliation, gritting her teeth against the sharp pain. Both women fell backwards from Yang’s blows, but she didn’t wait to see if they were okay. She turned back to Junior, but the coward was dipping out the back door.

Yang vaulted the bar with the ease of a former high school star athlete. She shoved workers and the like out of the way, nearly tackling them with her towering height and lean muscle. She ripped the back door open and snapped her neck back and forth. Junior was nearing the mouth of the alley. Yang bolted after him, was so close, her prosthetic reaching out--

* * *

 

Blake collided with something larger than her and _hard_.

 _Shit, shit, shit_. She didn’t have time for this. _He_ was not far behind, and she couldn’t let him get her again. The consequences would be too much this time. The correction was getting worse and worse, and she _needed_ out. She needed the escape like it was oxygen being deprived from her lungs.

But the impact had been too shocking. She hit the ground in a stumbling mess, falling backwards. She was gasping for air and her feet drummed with the pain of hitting the pavement for a despairing amount of time. She had been running for what seemed like eternity. But she couldn’t stop now.

Scrambling to her feet, Blake’s eyes nearly blurred with exhaustion and fear. She barely registered that what she had ran into was a person, let alone a person that was speaking. She tried to bypass them, but they snapped her to attention with a steady hold on her shoulder. Blake winced, the bruise beneath her shirt crying out from the pressure of--wait, was that metal?

Blake flicked her yellow eyes to the girl before her and blinked in shock, momentarily distracted by the sight. The blonde was tall and wired, lavender eyes wide, sunglasses askew, metal arm outstretched before her, and a smear of blood across her side. She was saying something but Blake’s sensitive faunus ears were still searching and searching and searching for the sound of familiar sauntering steps that told her she was about to be punished. But despite her ears stretching for sound, her eyes never wavered from what she believed was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

And she was. Blake’s breathing deepened further and bordered on hyperventilating, but not just from the fear of being caught. The girl before her was radiant sunshine in the stark contrast of the black night. Her long blonde hair framed a symmetrical and angular face with a splash of freckled but smooth skin. Her curves were soft and pronounced, but she was hard in just the right places, toned to a tune meant to siren the best of them. Blake never had a chance, but she pretended she did. There was a beat, a second too long, and Blake washed over a much too practiced calm. It was the same calm that came over her when she gave out the million excuses to cover up the truth, the scars and bruises, both physical and not.

“Hey, I said, are you okay? Damn, are you deaf or something?”

Blake didn’t respond. Her mind was racing. He was after her but this girl was before her, and she just didn’t have time for this, God damn it. She jerked her arm out of the metal grip and twisted to glance over her shoulder. He wasn’t there. Yet.

She whipped back around. The beautiful girl stood before her, nonplussed and with her mouth agape. Blake wished with all her might that she had never met him, that she lived a normal life, that she was attending college and out with friends, that she had collided with a ray of sunshine in the night and was able to stick around to feel its warmth, but that wasn't reality. It was never going to be her reality.

No, instead she was Blake Belladonna. She was never going to live a normal, easy life. So she shoved her way past a gorgeous girl, barely registered the words “lost cause”, and pounded the pavement with swift runaway footsteps… Only to be stopped by two very grumpy looking twins. Both of them were sporting glass shards, jagged cuts, and blood-thirsty sneers.

“Sorry, kitty-cat,” one of the two drawled, flicking out a switchblade in a colorful arc, “But Blondie and us have some unfinished business, and you landed yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Blake’s ears swiveled in panic. She didn’t know if she had lost him in her run into the back alleys of Vale, but she knew he couldn’t be far behind. He never was, and she didn’t have time for this. But she knew better. She was a survivor, after all. She stepped back from the twins. Her eyes slipped towards the blonde beauty, who was perpetually frowning. Were her eyes redder? Weren’t they lavender just a moment ago? And how did Blake forget about the blood smeared across the girl’s orange top?

Sunshine was distracting, it seemed.

Distracting _and_ demanding. The blonde seemed to have made a split-second decision. Her eyes darted back and forth between Blake and the twins before them. Blake didn’t have time to react as the blonde snatched her arm, dragged her sideways, and threw her onto the back of a nearby motorcycle.

“Get on!” She had shouted. Blake robotically complied, shocked by the turn of the night’s events. She barely registered as the girl instructed, “Hold on tight and don’t let go.”

Blake didn’t have a choice. The twins let out a slew of cuss words as an engine started, and suddenly, they were moving out of there faster than Blake could have ever ran.

Maybe he would be far behind, for once.  She prayed and held on tighter, cursing under her own breath for putting herself in the hands of a stranger so easily.


	2. Chapter 2

Yang slurped her milkshake noisily in an attempt to fill the awkward void of silence with something, _anything_. Her night had not gone to plan, not at all, and yet, she wasn’t entirely displeased with how it had turned out. Sure, she had a new stain on one of her favorite shirts. Sure, she hadn’t gotten any good details on where she should be heading next. Sure, she probably just hit a damned hard brick wall. But sure, she was sitting in front of the most attractive girl she had ever seen. And she had been staring at beautiful girls since she identified that she was gay.

The total stranger before her had long, midnight black hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back. She had smoldering yellow eyes that looked like they were the byproducts of melted down shooting stars. And her skin was a silky white, pale and mostly unmarred--mostly. The girl was breathtaking, but Yang couldn’t deny the jarring bruises and marks that littered her skin in places that would have been covered had she been wearing a proper jacket. But even so, beneath the black and blue, her body was slim, curvy just enough, and definitely flexible. And she was a faunus, judging by the two soft yet adorably expressive cat ears on the top of her head. Not that Yang was bothered by it. She never agreed with the discrimination of those with faunus heritage.

But the girl looked chilly and downright uncomfortable, folding her arms in over herself, with her knees pulled up to her chest, feet up on the seat of their booth. She kept glancing towards the exits and out the window. Her eyes seemed to dart towards everywhere but Yang, and Yang was at a loss for how to proceed. She had not expected to run straight into the girl, accidentally involving her in the fight she started, or to drag her, practically kidnapping her, onto her bike and into a 24-hour breakfast diner. Yet, she _did_ do _exactly_... that.

On another impulse, in order to break the stagnant air, Yang took off her jacket, reached around the table, and draped it over the girl’s shoulders. It effectively warmed her and hid her bruises from any prying eyes. Especially since she was only wearing a black crop top with short sleeves, black pants, and black heeled boots. Bracelets jangled at her wrists, vibrating slightly with the occasional movement, catching Yang’s attention every now and then. The girl’s eyes focused on Yang when she registered the jacket pulled around her. Yang sat back on her side of the booth, smiled and shrugged, before saying, “Sorry ‘bout earlier. I figured it was best to get the hell out of there.”

Yellow eyes stared her down steadily. There was a mixed flash of emotions, ranging from fear to irritation to burning curiosity, but then it was all gone. A glassy gloss covered a seemingly calm demeanor in a chilling facade. In a quiet voice, melodic and soft, the girl said, “Not a bad call.”

Once again, they were greeted by silence. Yang bit her lip and turned back to her milkshake. What did she do now? To her immense surprise, the girl was the first one to break the quiet. She said, “I won’t ask you any questions if you don’t ask me any.”

Yang opened her mouth but then closed it promptly, once she saw the girl’s eyes flick from the cut above her hip--no thanks to Junior’s goons--to the bruises on her own arms. The dark-haired girl had a fair point, she supposed. So Yang turned back to her milkshake, once again not knowing how to proceed. Normally, she wasn’t this socially awkward. Was this how Ruby always felt? God, it was awful. She couldn’t think of a single thing, and her palms were sweating, her gut wrenching, her tongue as thick as cotton and her mouth dry. How do people live like--

The girl had suddenly stretched out her slim, long legs, downed her tap water, and slid out of the booth with the grace of, well, a cat. Yang couldn’t help but jump up anxiously, knocking her milkshake over in the process, stumbling over her words.

“Whoa, hey, uh, w-where are you going?”

Once again, yellow eyes met lavender. The girl raised a singular eyebrow in an expertly passive maneuver. She didn’t respond to Yang’s question, but she also didn’t walk away. Yang became increasingly aware as the time ticked by that vanilla milkshake was dripping on the toes of her combat boots. She gulped. What the hell was she doing? “I mean, I know we just met, and in, like, not the most ideal situation, but I guess, what I’m trying to say, is that I, like, well--”

A twitch of the lips and a low, barely audible chuckle brought Yang back to a quiet. The girl’s brow lowered as she let out a small and surprisingly confident smirk. Gone was the panicked girl gasping for breath, terrified. Instead, Yang was watching a calm and stoic girl, but a calm and stoic girl that kept her eyes on everything, patiently waiting for something, anything, to leap out from the shadows. Almost a whisper, Yang straining to hear, she said, musically, “One moment, you don’t say anything, and the next, you can’t stop talking.”

Yang felt her cheeks pink in embarrassment. Normally confident, even cocky, she felt unusually out-of-sorts. Clearing her throat, she glanced down and fiddled with her fingernails. “I guess you could say this isn’t how I normally meet pretty girls,” she lamely explained.

Daring a peek, Yang glanced towards the girl from underneath her lashes. A dusting of blush had befallen her silky white skin, but her yellow eyes were still flickering to the closest exits. Taking a deep breath, Yang looked at her directly. She was going to take a risk, and somehow, that brought her to a calmer, more confident and familiar state of being. Yang was all about risks, usually. Risks, impulses, going with the flow--these were all second nature to her. _Adaptability_ , her doctor had called it, not long after she had traded her flesh and blood for a robotic prosthetic. Yeah, something like adaptability.

“The name is Yang,” she said, voice steady and sure, smooth like velvet, “And maybe I’d like to get to know the girl that runs through back alleys behind bar fronts for black market hit mans.”

The change in the atmosphere from Yang's statement was palpable. The electric current was dangerous, wrapping around them like a tension wire, and Yang felt the hairs on her arms raise as the dark-haired girl decidedly stepped closer. Her yellow eyes had narrowed, her features darkened, shadowy and hollow in a devastatingly beautiful way. Yang swore the lights had dimmed in the diner just to suit the mood. She could no longer breathe within the close proximity as the girl leaned in, almost touchable.

“And maybe I don’t need to answer to the girl picking a fight at said bar front,” she hissed, almost literally, “I don’t ask, and you don’t ask, remember?” A spin of the heel, the toss of the hair, and a jerk of the head, she turned away with one word, before strutting out of the diner and leaving Yang, flustered, in her wake.

“Blake.”

* * *

The dark-haired girl couldn’t hide her Cheshire grin as she pulled her arms through the sleeves of warm brown leather. Her ears twitched as she heard the jingle of keys, and she grinned wider. She ducked out of the breakfast diner and jogged to her golden ticket out of town--the black and yellow motorcycle of a gorgeous blonde who just wouldn’t know what hit her. Blake almost felt a pang of guilt, but she was a survivor. She had to do what she had to do, and Yang hadn’t even _noticed_ that Blake still had her jacket.

She thrust her leg over the bike and cranked the engine. _He_ had taught her how to ride a motorcycle back when they had a job that required the skill. And now she was using his lessons to get the hell away from him. The motorcycle would surely give her an advantage she wouldn’t have on foot. And, though she would have loved to stick around and get to know the sunny owner, Blake couldn’t waste another second waiting around, easy prey to a practiced predator. No, she was a predator, too. And she didn’t belong to him anymore.

She shot one regretful look to the diner. The blonde was still inside, none-the-wiser. Blake bit her lower lip, thinking back on their short time together already. The shock of colliding, quite literally, the adrenaline of danger, the air whipping her face as the blonde drove _so fast_ , and the awkward conversation, or non-conversation, in the diner all flashed through her mind. Blake was grateful. The other girl had gotten her out of the alleyways and into a safer place, just long enough for her to calm down and formulate a plan. But still...

_The name is Yang_.

God-damned it, how could one sentence sound so enticing, so inviting? Did she know she was practically oozing pheromones when she said it? Blake could swear it was the only reason she told the blonde her real name. That, and she had been so adorably flustered and bashful just before that. Surely, it would bite her in the ass if the girl ever caught up to her. But there was no time for that. Or so she kept telling herself. So, she gripped the handlebars of the motorcycle and took off into the night.

Yang was such a pretty name.


	3. Chapter 3

Yang’s knuckles were bloody, skin torn and bruised. Her prosthetic fared fine, but her flesh and blood was screaming with overuse and neglect. She didn’t care. Junior’s face looked worse. Probably felt worse, too.

After losing her bike to a gorgeous black-haired faunus girl, Yang was in a foul mood. She found a hideaway to rest for awhile before returning to Junior’s in the early morning hours to scope out the scene. Getting him alone was the trick, but when she did, she took all of her frustration out on getting him to talk. And talk he did.

_She_ was heading to Atlas, taking the long route through Mistral it seemed. Apparently, _she_ had business along the way but the ultimate goal was the engineering and technology capitol of all of Remnant. Thus, Yang had a lead, more than she had when she started, but she no longer had a ride. Her motorcycle disappeared to the shadowy night of Vale with a story not yet told.

But Yang had a plan. Qrow kept an apartment in Vale, a safehouse so-to-speak. She knew that it was there in the case of emergencies, especially with what had happened six years ago, and she knew there was a car there. Yang tried not to think about the reason the safehouse existed as she wandered the crowded streets of the city, the sun rising in the backdrop. She stuffed her bloody hand into the front of her pants, attempting to avoid suspicion, but attention drew to her anyway, eyes curiously darting from the blood stain and cut in her torso to her prosthetic arm. She knew she looked like a mess. Her hair was unruly, her sunglasses sat atop her head, her shirt bloody and torn, her arms bared to the breeze without a jacket. Still, the whispers and stares got to her as they always did when eyes eventually fell to her robotic arm. The ones that dared to catch her direct in the eye were met with a steely red glare.

She had to get the hell out of plain sight before she used someone else as a punching bag. Her temper was flaring. She knew she had no patience and a serious lack in self-control, and she was already irritated to the max by how this trip had gone so far. Usually, she went with the flow easily, but losing her motorcycle, _her Bumblebee_ …

Yang dipped down a side street after receiving a particularly nasty cat call. She really didn’t need to be sent back to Patch in handcuffs for an assault in broad daylight. Her father would kill her, and he certainly knew how, so she wandered a little off of the path she was headed, but it was worth it to avoid the crowded streets.

There were less people here, so she kept going. She barely noticed as the stragglers went from humans, to humans and faunus, to simply faunus. It was only when she stumbled onto a busier street did she become aware that she had wandered into a faunus district and that she was being stared at for an entirely different reason now. Still, she carried on. She’d use the faunus district as a cut through to the outskirts of Vale, where Qrow’s apartment was located. Police and other prying eyes were less likely to involve themselves with the faunus district, and the last people Yang wanted to see were VPD. They’d pick her up and send her back to Patch even if she didn’t commit assault in broad daylight. Especially after what happened six years ago.

Yang shook her head back and forth, like she could dispel the memories as if it were water in her ears. That was the past, this was the present, and she was looking to the future. She had a goal, an impulse, a split-second decision to follow through on. She couldn’t dwell on what happened before, she couldn’t let it stop her from following her dream, and she sure as hell wasn’t going back home until she found _her_.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She had learned the hard way that she left her wallet in her bag _on her motorcycle_ when she had tried to pay the bill at the breakfast diner.

“That sneaky little cat faunus,” she muttered. If she ever saw her again, than she would--

“Holy shit.”

Yang stopped dead on the sidewalk of a main road in the faunus district. Across the street was a two-story brick building, painted blue. The upstairs looked like a set of apartments side by side but the downstairs had two bay windows and an ornate door in the middle. A plaque above the door read in block letters, _Poseidon’s Pub, est. 1920 by Triton Vasilias_. And sitting right in front of the bar was a familiar black and yellow motorcycle, _Bumblebee_. She knew it was hers. She’d recognize it anywhere. Hell, she built that bike. _And there it was, like it had never been stolen at all_.

Yang couldn’t hide her shit-eating grin if she tried.

* * *

By the time Blake pulled up to Sun’s apartment that morning, she had almost expelled the blonde bombshell named Yang from her mind. Almost. She kept telling herself that it was for the best, that nothing good would have come from them knowing each other, that it was just a one-time, chance meeting in the middle of the night. Besides, she didn’t have time to think about pretty girls with pretty names. She had to make sure she got out of Vale alive.

So she went to Sun’s, as she always did. It was usually a place for her to recharge or recover, a place to get her head on straight, in a sense. She knew better now than to go to Ilia’s, had been burned one too many times by her childhood friend, but Sun was a safe place. He had long ago given up trying to convince Blake to leave once and for all, and, instead, decided to give Blake a simple safe haven when she needed it. That’s why she didn’t even need to knock. She found the spare key hidden just for her and crept into the apartment, still clad in a leather jacket that didn’t belong to her and holding a bag that she found on the bike.

Sun was most definitely asleep. He closed most nights at Neptune’s family bar downstairs. His wages went straight to rent and he lived off of his tips, which was pretty generous considering the monkey faunus was energetic and charming, cashing in on tips by the hundreds some nights. So, Blake was undeterred as she padded into the spare room, a room she had spent many nights hiding away and licking her wounds, more literal than metaphorical.

She dropped the blonde’s bag on the bed and went straight for the mattress, feeling between the pillow top and the box spring, grasping at cash, a fake ID, and a passport if need be. It was a getaway stash, one she had never indulged before. Sun would be proud had he been awake. He may have given up trying to convince her to leave, but she knew he always still hoped.

She dropped the stash on the bed and opened the blonde’s bag. There was a few spare clothes, another wad of cash, and a wallet. Blake peeled the wallet open to find a picture of a girl, small, red-streaked hair and shining silver eyes. Curious, Blake flipped the portrait picture over. Scrawled on the back in messy handwriting was _Ruby, 17_. That was it, no other explanation. Blake was left pondering if it was a girlfriend, a sister, a cousin, or who-knows-what. Not that it mattered.

She also found a driver’s license, a dependent military ID, and a few credit cards. The driver’s license told her that the blonde’s full name was Yang Xiao Long, that she was twenty-one, and that she lived on a small island called Patch about 10 hours outside of Vale. The dependent military ID told her that the blonde’s father used to be active military. There was no other information on the girl she had quite literally ran into, but there was a substantial amount of cash in the bag.

Biting her lip and swallowing her insatiable curiosity, Blake shoved the wallet, money, her fake ID, and the passport into the bag. She pulled out some of Yang’s clothes and started to change out of her own. The brighter colors weren’t really her style, but she would only benefit from looking very not-Blake Belladonna. Thus, she found herself in a loose orange t-shirt she tied back and black ripped jeans. She shed her bracelets and pulled on the brown leather jacket. She grabbed black lace up boots from the closet of the spare room, ones she had not worn in a long time.

Satisfied, the cat faunus added some of her own clothes to the bag as well. She then slung it over her shoulder, closed the spare room, and silently stepped out of Sun’s apartment building. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, the sun now shining bright, stepped out into the street, turned to the motorcycle and--

“Oh, fuck me.”

* * *

Yang smirked, eyeing the black-haired girl as she stepped out of the building, wearing _her clothes_ , slinging _her bag_ , heading to _her bike_. She nearly laughed at the expression on the girl's face when she spotted Yang herself leaning against the motorcycle, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Hell, she almost lost it at the words that left the cat faunus’ slack-jawed mouth.

“Oh, fuck me.”

_That can be arranged_ , Yang wanted to say, completely forgetting how flustered she had been the night before, feeling a newfound confidence in interacting solely based upon having the upper-hand. Hell, though, the girl was just as beautiful as she remembered, her long black hair draped down her shoulders and back, her adorable cat ears standing at attention, her shining yellow eyes wide with startling fear. Yeah, Yang could see her in her sheets, see her writhing, moaning, _begging_ \--

But she stole her pride and joy, her motorcycle. That wouldn’t be forgiven so easily.

So, instead, Yang lurched forward, snagged the girl’s elbow, and dragged her into a nearby alleyway. Surprisingly, Yang found little resistance as she pinned the cat faunus to the wall, blocking her in on both sides with her arms. She was all prepared to give the girl a good verbal lecture about taking things that didn’t belong to you, but she froze when she saw the girl’s reaction.

Yang had not moved either of her arms in a threatening manner, but the girl cowered. She actually _cowered_ , shrinking in on herself. She winced and closed her eyes like she expected Yang to outright hit her. And though the blonde was a hothead, that wasn’t her go-to, especially when it came to a woman.

Yang remembered the bruises, the cuts, and various marks (ones she had thought were from a fight not much unlike her own), remembered the fear as the girl had collided with her the night previous, remembered the paranoia and constant surveillance of the breakfast diner. All of the hints and the reaction of the girl now, and Yang came to a very unsettling conclusion.

She stepped back from the cat faunus and lowered her arms to her sides slowly, so as to not startle her. Yellow eyes slowly opened and widened as they connected with red ones. The air shifted, the breeze died, and the sun fell behind a cloud, casting a shadow over Yang, bringing out the fury in her expression. Her hands were balled into fists. Very slowly, without breaking eye contact, Yang said,

“Tell me who he is and I’ll fucking kill him.”


	4. Chapter 4

Blake could only stare, transfixed.  Yang's eyes were crimson, like before, both dangerous and enticing.  The cat faunus thought she should be more alarmed, but she found the shift in mood to be alluring, understanding that the rage was not misplaced, bearing a protective quality, like a warm blanket and a hot cup of tea, heavy and scolding.

But Blake did not fancy herself a damsel.  She would not let herself be protected, herded,  _controlled_.  Not again.  She went to assert this independence, to take charge and get the hell out of Vale, but she opened and closed her mouth at the sound of sirens in the distance, eyes widening.  The blonde's expression mirrored hers, her own eyes returning to the neutrality of lavender.  

"You didn't-?"

Yang shook her head.  Blake cursed.  It was  _him_ and his damned connections, she knew it.  Desperate, her eyes cast to the black and yellow motorcycle on the main road.  Yang tracked the movement, jaw set.  There was a beat, and Blake shifted, and--metal smacked the brick wall behind her, Yang's arm caging her in.  The dark-haired girl turned to the blonde with a glare, but Yang held her flesh hand out, palm exposed, rough fingers extended.  Yellow eyes traced faint scars and pronounced callouses, a hum stuck in her throat as the sound of sirens increased.

Yang gave her a proposition, a way out she didn't ask for.  She said, "Let me.  I get my bike back and we get out of Vale.  We can split ways once we leave the city."   _If that is what you want_ , the latter written across a look of determination.

Mind racing, heart hammering, Blake couldn't think of a better or faster path to follow.   _Down the yellow brick road I go_ , she thought.  And just like the night before, she put herself in the hands of a perfect stranger.  Though, the risk was worth getting away from  _him_ , after all.  Blake dropped the keys to Yang's open palm and padded after her.  As they mounted the motorcycle, it became evident that the sirens had arrived in the form of several VPD patrol cars.

Blake closed her eyes as Yang gunned the bike down the busy street, weaving in and out of cars and faunus alike.  She felt her gut lurch, not at the speed or the reckless endeavor, but at the thought of being caught.  She instinctively gripped the blonde tighter as they rounded a corner sharp and fast, pressing herself against the girl's surprisingly warm back.  Her fingers dug into Yang's abdomen, finding a tight core, muscle beneath smooth skin.  She kept holding on for dear life, and maybe, just maybe, because it felt  _damned good_.  Like the high of choice or the ecstasy of freedom.

And Yang  _smelled_ good, soap and sea salt and  _flowers_.  Just like Menagerie, just like home, with their hearts beating at the steady rhythm of a drum.

She was going as fast as 100 mph and she had never felt so alive and calm all in the same.

* * *

After maneuvering, doubling back, cutting corners, and breaking a numerous amount of traffic laws, it seemed that the sirens had receded into the background and into Yang's most distant and painful memories, long buried, never forgotten.  With the adrenaline of the pursuit and riding Bumblebee wearing off, Yang became all too aware of the beautiful dark-haired enigma latched around her, claws digging into her stomach and breathing hot on the spot just beneath her ear, where her jaw begins...

Taking deep calming breaths and focusing on the road ahead, Yang turned onto a seemingly empty street in the middle of what looked like the projects.  She brought the bike to a crawl by a run down garage with an apartment above it.  She clicked a key fob she never thought she would ever have to use, opening the shockingly heavy and enforced garage door.  Blake tensed behind her.  Yang shot, with a quick glance over her shoulder, "Nothing to worry about.  It's a safe house.  We need to lose the trail before we leave."

As she drew the bike to a complete stop inside, switched on the lights, and closed the garage door, Blake smoothly slid off of Bumblebee and backed away, eyes never leaving Yang.  Her glare would have been intimidating if Yang wasn't busy staring at her ears which were twitching in adorable agitation.

"I thought you said we were leaving the city," she accused, voice low, like a hiss.

Yang shrugged noncommittally, letting an easy grin cross her features, hoping to ease the girl's fears with a calming friendliness.  "We are.  But now they know my bike and what we look like, so I figured it might be best to get a change of clothes, a different vehicle, and a game plan for where we stop out of the city limits."

Blake didn't say anything.  She simply arched a singular eyebrow in the way that Yang was becoming accustomed to.  The blonde sighed, continuing, "This is my family's safehouse.  My uncle keeps an assortment of, uh, things here, including a car."

"Things?"  There was no mistaking the suspicion that colored the low, melodic voice of the faunus.  Even so, Yang thought she could see herself falling asleep to the low hum of a voice like that.

She bit her lip and wondered how to proceed.  Blake's stance had not relaxed even the slightest so she knew she wasn't quite out of the sticks.  Taking a calculated step backwards, Yang held up her hands in the suggestion of a white flag.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you.  I promise.  Believe it or not, I'm leaving Vale," she said, "And my guess is, so are you.  We can help each other out.  And I know you said no questions beforehand, and I respect your privacy, but if you want to ask  _me_ anything, I'll answer."

Blake narrowed her eyes, but Yang watched as her shoulders slowly relaxed from their tense position.  "Why?"

"Because I want you to be comfortable."   _More than I want to smash the skull of whoever gave you those bruises_.

" _Why?_ "

"Uh, I don't know."   _You're gorgeous_.

Another eyebrow raise.

"Fine, well, uh," Yang rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, talking fast, "Well, I kinda think you're really cute and I want to help you?"

One second, two, three--"Kinda?"  Was that a quiver of a smirk?

A lofty grin formed on Yang's face as her cheeks pinked, a contradiction of sorts.  "Maybe more than kinda."

Blake studied her for a considerable amount of time, eyes roving over Yang's face, her body, her very soul.  She was looking for something, sincerity maybe.  Yang didn't flinch from her gaze.  She stood proud, waiting, patient for the first time in her life.

"Yeah, okay."

Air escaped Yang's lungs.  It was air she had not realized she was holding in.  "Alright.  Well, let's get to it then."

She turned behind her, where there was a vehicle underneath a large tan cover.  She peeled it back, revealing a stark, sleek, shiny black beauty with tinted windows.  She heard Blake let out a low whistle.

"Is that?"

"Yep," Yang laughed, "A  _Harbinger 300_.  It's my uncle's.  Or was.  He drives some sort of mom car now.  Something about gas and  _really_ bad luck on the road."

Blake slowly stepped around the vehicle, eyeing it quietly.  After a few moments, she met Yang's eyes.  "You'll answer any question?"

Yang nodded, waiting, unsure.  Maybe she should have thought about limiting herself before she decided to bare her soul to a stranger just for their comfort.  But would she really be Yang Xiao Long if she didn't take such drastic risks?

"Safehouse, unnameable  _things_ , and a military-grade, bullet-proof, powerhouse vehicle with practically solid tinted windows?"  Blake's question was clear.

_Oh, right_ , Yang thought,  _these aren't normal household items_.

She let out a nervous bark of laughter.  Another noncommittal shrug.  "Dad's ex-military.  Uncle's ex-black ops.  Mom used to be police captain of Vale police."  _Biological mom is an ex-black ops, ex-detective turned murdering crime lord/hit man._

She watched as Blake paused and stiffened, eyes flicking from the garage door to Yang, uncertain.  "But you helped me run away from police?"

 Yang frowned.  That was something she wasn't getting into.  "I don't have the greatest of relationships with VPD."

"But your mom?"

"Dead."

Blake's eyes widened.  Her expression immediately turned somber.  "I'm sorry, I--"

Yang held up her hand to stop her from going on.  It was always painful to listen to apologies and condolences, especially from those who didn't owe her a damned thing.  "Happened a long time ago.  No worries."

A deafening silence filled the room.  If Yang were to pick any word to describe it, she would use awkward.  This was just damned  _awkward_ now.  The whole  _mom_ thing usually did that to most conversations, she found.

"Why don't we change and scavenge for some food and supplies upstairs before we hit the road?"  Yang suggested, needing to fill the silence with noise, "We might split later but I'm taking the long road to Atlas.  I need to stock up."

Blake nodded, committing to the quiet, face blank.  Yang watched as she lowered Yang's own bag from her shoulder and opened it.  She pulled out some unfamiliar clothes before tossing the bag over.  Yang took inventory.  Her wallet, money, clothes, everything was there.  She looked back to the midnight-haired girl and watched as she shrugged before heading upstairs, hips swaying methodically.  Yang chewed her lip for a minute before following her, eyes never leaving the curves of Blake's backside.

Yeah, her trip had definitely not gone to plan.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Blake had come to the conclusion that Yang Xiao Long was, essentially and if left unprovoked, harmless.  She had also come to the conclusion that the blonde bombshell was either naive, entirely too trusting, or way too confident in herself--or an astounding and strange cocktail of all of the above.  That, or she simply had nothing left to lose.

The two girls had packed the  _Harbinger 300_ with duffel bags of clothes found in the 'safehouse', canned and boxed foods, bottles of water, a few fake IDs and the like, and an assortment of cash.  But it became apparent as they prepared for the road that neither of them had slept overnight, both yawning and blinking away exhaustion, and they both realized that they were each sporting fresh wounds still.  Yang had patched up and cleaned what looked like a swipe of a knife above her hip, and Blake simply showered and tried not to hiss as the water hit a few new bruises, no thanks to that bastard.  After, they both decided to get some shut-eye while still in the confines of what Yang called a 'safehouse'.

But now Blake was awake, lying in a somewhat lumpy old couch, and Yang was snoring softly from the floor, between the couch and a dusty, rickety coffee table that looked like it would fall over if you sneezed at it too hard.  The cat faunus looked at Yang's sleeping form and thought about how easy it would be to leave, slipping the keys from Yang's discarded jacket laying on the arm of the couch, disappearing like a shadow does in the night.  It was like Yang just simply didn't learn the first time.  _Or she didn't care at all_ , which was a mildly terrifying concept.  Still, it was  _so easy_ the night before... but something was holding Blake back this time.

Maybe it was because Yang had inadvertently given her another chance, a way out despite how Blake had cheated her, maybe it was those red eyes and that fast conviction of  _him_ earlier, or maybe it was how the blonde adorably grunted in her sleep, hair strewn across her pillow, lush and round lips parted slightly, harsh angles smoothed into soft edges.  Her robotic prosthetic was detached, laying across the worn out coffee table, and her flesh arm was draped across her forehead.  Blake's eyes traced along Yang's curves, watching her chest rise and fall, watching her long legs twitch every so often.

 _She looks so peaceful_.

With a small, barely audible sigh, Blake stretched out silently.  She had previously spotted some caffeinated tea buried in the kitchenette's cupboards, and she knew she wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon.   _What if Yang woke up first, what if she had lied, what if she was waiting for the right opportunity to hurt_ \--Blake shook her anxious thoughts away and lightly touched her feet to the floor.  She attempted to precariously step around and over the blonde.  As she was making the final step, she gave the girl one more glance, subsequently freezing in place.

The faunus' yellow eyes met Yang's, open, a strange mix of both lavender and red, the latter seeping into her irises, iridescent of an oil spill, ink on paper, blood in water.  There was no expression on the blonde's face.  She was blank, watching, waiting,  _expecting_.

_Perhaps she isn't that naive or trusting.  Or harmless._

Blake stayed where she was, one leg over Yang, one leg still perched by the couch.  Her heart was beating at the speed of a hummingbird's wings.  Her hands were perspiring, and _holy shit_.  She wished she didn't sound so meek when she spoke, but her voice was tiny as she said, "Would you like some tea?  I was going to make some."

The dark-haired girl wanted a stopwatch or anything to measure time, because Yang's smile lit up in a record  _nanosecond_ at a shocking thousand watts.

"Make it coffee, and you've got a deal."

Blake gave a small smile, uneasy.  She stepped over the girl fully and entered the kitchen.  Yang put on her prosthetic.  From there, they set forth to once again getting ready for the road, albeit in an awkward atmosphere.  They ate a quick breakfast.  Yang made flapjacks from pre-made boxed powder.  Blake made tea and coffee.  Her father had drank coffee back home, so she knew how to make it "as strong and as dark as possible" as Yang had put it.  Then they cleaned up and got dressed for the road.

And oh, how they got dressed.   _It should be illegal to look that good_ , Blake thought, eyeing her temporary companion, once again, like she could ever pretend that anyone could or would take their eyes away from the ethereal being of one Yang Xiao Long.

She stood, tall, blonde waves flowing around her like a voluptuous ocean beneath a setting sun, wearing a yellow, orange, and brown flannel, unbuttoned, over a black, form-fitting tank top with tight brown pants, lace-up boots, and those damned signature sunglasses.  The cleavage was generous and the tightness of the tank top left little to imagination as far as abdominal muscles went.  She took note, though, that Yang had rolled up her sleeves, revealing the metal arm in its full black and yellow glory, marred by occasional scratches and dings from time and use.  Her flesh hand was also outwardly too revealing, portraying a series of scarred knuckles, rough callouses, and short, blunt fingernails.

And Blake couldn't help but feel modest next to her, wearing unfamiliar clothes.  She had not packed enough for herself, and the goal was not to look like the descriptions that VPD probably got from them yesterday.  Besides,  _he_ knew her entire wardrobe.   _He_ used to choose what she wore, after all.  

Yang had given her "Ruby's clothes".  She did not embellish who Ruby was, and Blake didn't mention that she saw the girl's photo in Yang's wallet.  It wasn't any of her business who that was to Yang.  They were strangers.  They were a means to an end for each other.  Still, Blake felt strange in the girl's clothes.  She was sporting a black, long sleeved hoodie with a red rose on the back, a pair of slim skinny jeans, and a black beanie, successfully hiding her cat ears.  The only familiar thing on her was her black boots.

But despite her self consciousness, and to her general surprise, Yang's eyes flitted the cat faunus up and down, her teeth brushing against her bottom lip as she very not-so-subtly enjoyed whatever she thought Blake was offering with her appearance.  Blake tried not to blush.

A means to an end.  A means to an end.   _A means to an end_.  Once out of Vale, they'd part ways.  She'd get away from  _him_ and Yang would do whatever the hell Yang was doing before they ran into each other in a back alleyway.

_What was the blonde getting out of this again?_

* * *

They had been on the road for a few hours, just barely outside of the city of Vale, and Yang was getting antsy.  Blake had insisted on driving first.  Yang chalked it up to the girl needing some semblance of control in her life, especially after concluding what the skittish faunus was running from.  And Blake wasn't a bad driver.  No, that was no issue at all.  In fact, Yang was happy to let someone else take the wheel for awhile after all of her driving the day before. 

No, the problem was that Yang was just  _bored_.  She never sat still for this long.  And she had left her scroll in Patch, not wanting to be tracked or contacted during her impromptu search, not wanting to be dragged back to a life of no answers, full of pressures, and just never being enough.

So, without anything to occupy her short attention span, Yang fiddled with the radio.  She tapped between stations, hummed and drummed her fingers when she found songs she enjoyed, and she shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat every so often.  As she continued her ministrations and fidgeting, she had barely noticed as the faunus beside her became increasingly annoyed, ears twitching in agitation, white knuckles holding the steering wheel in a death grip.  Yellow slits glanced over at Yang as her lips pressed into a hard line.

And then, sharp, "Could you sit  _still_?"

Yang paused, mid twist, attempting to stretch her lower back, frozen, "Uh..."

Blake raised that one singular eyebrow.  Yang rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, sitting back.

"I was always the driver on family trips," she explained loftily, "No matter who with.  Dad didn't really ever leave the house, Uncle Qrow was always drunk, and Ruby failed her driver's test a record  _three times in a row_."

Yang had spoken without thinking.  She hadn't realized how open she was being with the faunus.  She knew it could be dangerous, giving away information as such, especially when all she knew was the girl's first name and that she was running from some abusive scum.  Oh, and VPD wanted her.  And she stole Bumblebee.

But Yang noticed how the cat faunus' eyes flashed--curiosity?--when she said Ruby's name again.

Her ears were standing at attention as she watched the road.  "The girl in your wallet?"

Yang nodded slowly.  She waited, wondering where the conversation was going to go next.  The girl beside her seemed to be mulling something over.  And then,

"Are you still answering any questions or was that a one night only deal?"

Yang's eyes widened.  She had forgotten all about that.  Though, she was a woman of her word.

"Hit me with your best shot."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

The question was so unexpected, so ludicrous, that Yang started laughing.  She was laughing so hard that she didn't register the  _other_ noises that came to answer Blake's question until she was being jostled, hard, in the passenger seat.  There was a ridiculous, over-dramatic gagging noise, the slamming of brakes, and an uncharacteristic shriek from the faunus as the  _Harbinger 300_ came to an abrupt stop on the side of the road. 

Once everything caught up with Yang's reeling, and now thumping, brain, she spun around in the front seat and exclaimed, "Ruby, what the hell?!"

Sure enough, Ruby Rose was grinning from ear to ear in the back seat of the car.  She had poked her head up from underneath one of the duffel bags, having seemingly squished herself between the backseat and the front seat, using the luggage as cover.  Her black and red hair was disheveled at best, but her silver eyes were gleaming with child-like amusement.

Blake was very plainly shaken in the driver's seat.  She was staring into the rear view mirror with wide yellow eyes, her hands still clutched to the steering wheel, her chest heaving, and her breath shallow.  She turned to look to Yang, asking another question, silently.

"Blake, this is Ruby," Yang glared at the little minx in the back, her eyes a mixture of lavender and red, not entirely calm but not entirely angry, "My sister.  Ya know,  _the one who should be in classes back in Patch right now_."

Ruby Rose just grinned wider.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The _Harbinger 300_ was hours outside of the city of Vale. They had reached a long stretch of open road with varying strips of trees and boulders. The sun had set, casting the road into darkness, illuminated only by head-beams and the occasional flickering streetlight.

And the car was quiet, the radio turned off. Yang was thankful for the silence and she was thankful for her turn to drive, needing the distraction. Frustration from earlier was still coming off of her like fumes in the exhaust.

_“What are you doing here?!”_

_“I woke up and you were gone!” Ruby had exclaimed, her mischievous grin not quite lost in her defense, “And I’m not a moron. I go to a military college, duh! You left your scroll, some of your clothes were missing, and you took Bumblebee instead of dad’s truck, which you had been driving to work for weeks now.”_

_Yang had glared at her younger sister. As right as she was, it didn’t explain what she was doing there, in the back of the car, sneaking up on them, a few hours outside of Vale. Especially when she should have been in Patch, at home, down the street from the naval base perched on the corner of the island, attending nuclear weapons engineering courses at Beacon Academy._

_Getting the hint, Ruby had continued to speak, a troubled frown replacing her usual cheery face, “When I figured out you had left, I couldn’t help myself. I was worried. The safehouse was the first place I checked. And good thing, too. I snuck in and saw you and uh--”_

_Silver eyes had drifted to the cat faunus in the driver’s seat. The dark-haired girl was still staring, wide-eyed, with small breathy pants. Yang figured it was best to let her recover quietly. She must have had some residual PTSD lingering, the blonde assumed. Running for your life from someone you trusted once probably did that to you._

_“Blake,” Yang supplied._

_“Right, I saw you and, uh, Blake sleeping. I saw the bags in the car and all that. I figured you were roadtripping it, and I wanted in!”_

_“What about school?” Yang had narrowed her eyes, now an iridescent crimson._

_“I called my professors before hiding in the back here. I told them there was a family emergency and all this lame stuff. I’ll have some incompletes but I can pick back right up in the summer semester.” Once again, Ruby was grinning from ear to ear._

And that was that. There was nothing Yang could do--Ruby was already in the backseat, and there was no way they were turning back now. And so, the car was carrying a girl with no answers, a runaway faunus, and a clueless kid who thought they were going on an adventure. The blonde had left with the impression that she was going to find _her_ and maybe figure herself out along the way, but now she had two extra people to look after. It was so typical, she should have expected it.

And how the hell was she going to do this with _Ruby_ here? She knew she had left her sister, her family, and her home without a plan, without real thought, but it was the only way, _after everything that happened 6 years ago_. How could she look for _her_ with Ruby here? Her sister would never forgive her. Deep down, she probably hasn’t forgiven her at all, if ever.

Yang gripped the steering wheel harder, her foot pressing down on the accelerator unconsciously. The action did not go unnoticed. The blonde felt piercing yellow eyes gravitate to her.

“Are you okay?” Blake whispered. Ruby was snoozing soundly in the back seat, now properly sitting up and buckled in. The cat faunus was in the passenger’s side. She had been staring out of the window, more quiet and still than Yang ever could have been.

Yang nodded. She eased her foot off of the accelerator and felt the _Harbinger 300_ cruise. Blake didn’t look away from her, and she felt herself turn red beneath the faunus’ scrutiny. That damned eyebrow was rising on the girl’s forehead, challenging, telling her, _I can tell you are lying_.

When Yang realized that the pressing stare would not cease, she sighed and said, “I should be asking you that. I think Rubes all but gave you a heart attack.”

To her surprise, the faunus let out an amused chuckle under her breath. “I certainly wasn’t expecting that earlier, no.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for awhile. Yang’s tense muscles loosened but not completely. Her grip eased up, but she found herself anxiously tapping the steering wheel as she eventually grew tired. Blake took note of this, as well. Yang had come to the conclusion that Blake was simply observant.

“There should be a motel coming up soon,” the dark-haired girl noted, looking at a paper map Ruby had produced from the glove compartment earlier, “This map has it starred off with a note that says ‘takes cash and asks no questions’. Seriously, you family is… unusual.”

“Unusually convenient for a girl who doesn’t want to be found, you mean,” Yang snarked, unable to keep the smirk from twisting her lips.

“I suppose I struck some gold when I ran into you,” Blake snorted, glancing out of the window again, “Literally.”

“Oh, baby,” Yang grinned, “You have _no idea_.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Blake laughed, surprisingly good-natured, but Yang spotted a small dusting of pink on her cheeks.

Feeling her mood brighten easily, the blonde waggled her eyebrows at the faunus. Blake tried to hide her laugh in a fake cough, but Yang spotted her smile. She nearly crashed the car she was so mesmerized by the hidden beauty behind those shadows. She immediately wanted to keep the faunus smiling, keep her happy, make her forget her worries. But she was tired, enraptured in yawns and blinking at the road ahead of them.

“How much longer until the motel?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

_God damned it_ , Yang thought.

* * *

Blake wasn’t positive they would make it to the motel alive with the way the blonde next to her was faring. To be honest, though, she wasn’t doing much better. It was taking all of her effort to keep her eyes open, even with the literal embodiment of sunshine sitting next to her.

But they ended up making it. The motel they found themselves at was small and shabby but well lit. There was only a handful of cars in the lot. Of course, the sleek black abomination they were driving stuck out like a sore thumb, but it wasn’t like it was traceable to Blake herself. There was no way _he_ would know she was traveling in it. For now, anyway.

As they clambered out of the car--the small girl in the back mumbling a shocking amount of profanities as she was awakened--Blake became aware that Yang’s little sister probably didn’t understand the need to use fake IDs in a place like this. Or, she didn’t understand why Blake would _want_ to use fake IDs in a place like this. The faunus turned to Yang as they headed into the check out. She met those lavender eyes, and, somehow, they seemed to understand.

Yang stepped in front, taking charge, assuming the lead like it was her God-given right. With the confidence that she inhibited, Blake wasn’t all that surprised. Thankfully, the clerk barely batted an eyelash when Yang said she needed a room for her and _her younger sisters_. The connotation ‘ask no questions’ ran a long way here, especially with Blake being obviously faunus and the fact that Yang and Ruby didn’t actually look all that much alike.

Yet, Yang had introduced the smaller girl as her sister earlier, too. Something told the faunus that there was more to that story. Though, she didn’t doubt they were siblings. They certainly acted like they were related in the time that she had been with them both.

The room they found themselves in was small, and there was a single bed, another lumpy sofa, and a small bath to the side. A kitchenette lined the wall between the motel room door and the bathroom door. There was a singular window.

Blake took note of the door, the window, and the vent beside the mini-fridge. Every possible escape route. Yang didn’t seem to notice her paranoid habit of scoping out a place, or she had just become accustomed to it in their short time together. Ruby, however, watched Blake for a moment. The faunus felt her heartbeat quicken momentarily as the black and red haired girl pursed her lips. If she thought it was a strange behavior, she didn’t say anything. In fact, none of them said anything. They were too tired. Something about being on the road for so long did that to a person.

“I’ll take the couch,” Blake announced, plopping down, resting her head on the rough surface of the arm, “You guys can have the bed. I’m sure sharing is a bit easier for siblings.”

No one argued her logic. Again, no one really said anything. Blake watched idly as Yang double-checked the lock on the motel door before laying down. The blonde snuck her a quick wink before closing her eyes. The faunus couldn’t stop her blush as she closed her own eyes, her ears automatically straining to assess the sounds around her, flicking occasionally. Ruby had resumed her state of sleep almost instantly, her breathing slow and measured. Yang, however, did not fall asleep for awhile.

And Blake took longer than her, still.  She wasn't entirely positive she could trust the people she had found herself with.  All she could think about was  _him_ and the way he told her he loved her but hurt her anyway.  If he could do that with his so-called love, then what were perfect strangers, especially humans, capable of doing to her?

But Yang had proven to be mostly kind so far.  She had gone out of her way to help the faunus, even when Blake knew she did not deserve it.  She stole her motorcycle, for God's sake, and the blonde  _still_ helped her get out of Vale.  That had to account for  _something_.

Her mind bickered back and forth.  On one hand, she was terrified.  On the other, she felt safe enough.  Where was the happy medium?

Thankfully, the darkness soon overtook her, easing her mind, if momentarily.


	7. Chapter 7

_The unpleasant stench of antiseptics filled Yang’s nostrils. Her eyes were closed, and her body was unusually numb. She could make out the steady sound of something beeping, distant voices, and the jostling of paper. As the noises grew more composed, louder, the young girl was able to make out her Uncle’s gruff, raspy voice. He had always sounded like he had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day despite never smoking one in his life. Maybe it was the alcohol._

_“Look, Tai,” he was saying, “I know you want us to wait, but we have an investigation here. People are dead. Summe--”_

_There was a strangled noise, a scuffle, a slammed door. Yang’s eyes snapped open, lavender bursting with red as the door slamming jolted her into another time, another space. The sheer of metal on metal, the loss of gravity, the dripping of blood, the gunshots, the screaming and shouting, her mother, lying, cold, empty, eyes wide, mouth open--_

_“Whoa, there, firecracker,” Qrow said, rubbing her back, grounding her back to reality. She was sitting in a hospital bed, her left arm thrown around her middle, and Qrow was supporting her from behind as he rubbed gentle circles in between her shoulder blades. She was shaking and sweating._

_“You’re alright,” Qrow continued, “It’s alright.”  And for a moment, it was. But then Yang tried to hug her Uncle back, tried to return his embrace, only to discover the horror of what should have been._

_Her arm._

_Her arm is what should have been._

_She screamed, and pushed, and flung, and tried with all her might to move it, to will it into existence, but it just wouldn’t. She kept trying, kicking and punching and shrieking-- “Yang! Yang!”_

“--Yang!” Ruby’s hushed, urgent whisper and small hands jerked the blonde into a wakeful state. She was breathing hard, gasping for air. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings and realize where they were.

The motel room looked even shabbier as daylight streaked through the gaps of the curtains. They were laying on an old, uncomfortable spring mattress. Ruby was leaning over her with loving, but knowing, concern. This was not Yang’s first time being awoken from a past not yet quite forgotten.

“I’m fine,” she asserted softly. Ruby gave her a look, but Yang shook her head, “Really, I’m good.” She reached for her prosthetic on the nightstand--sleeping without it because it was uncomfortable to roll over on--and put it on, flexing the fingers for good measure. She wasn’t fine, but she knew how to put on the right show, donning a familiar mask.

Ruby bit her lip but nodded. She gestured towards the couch, where the cat faunus still lay, sound asleep, and whispered, “She’s out cold.”

When the smaller girl met her eye, there were several questions that were left unsaid. _Who is she? Why is she wearing my clothes? Why did you tell the motel clerk she was your sister, too?_

Yang didn’t say anything. She just very subtly shook her head. Ruby seemed mildly annoyed that Yang wasn’t forthcoming, but she didn’t push it. She wasn’t even supposed to be there, anyway.

“I’m going to shower,” the young girl mumbled and rolled off of the bed, darting into the bathroom after snagging some of her own clothes out of Blake’s duffel. Yang watched her go for a moment before springing up herself. She definitely wasn’t fine, but she found it best not to dwell on her dreams. She functioned better when she didn’t stop moving, kept busy. That was how she had gotten the flashbacks to fade into the background, conquering her consciousness. She just couldn’t stop the _unconscious_ recollections.

With a good stretch and a roll of her shoulders, Yang went straight to the kitchenette, only sparing Blake a quick glance. The cat faunus was out cold. Yang knew that she had not slept well the night before, too paranoid. The exhaustion must have caught up to the dark-haired girl. The blonde felt a pang of sympathy for her. Not pity--no, sympathy. She must have endured a lot to have bruises like that and still contain the courage to get out while she could. How anyone could do that kind of harm to someone close to them intentionally, Yang had no idea.

Halting just before the stove, she turned back to the faunus, giving her more than just a glance this time.

_She’s breathtaking_.

Not that Yang didn’t find her attractive before. But in sleep, she was relaxed, no longer tense and sweeping the room with sharp eyes. Blake’s long, dark hair was draped and curled around her slender frame. Ruby’s sweatshirt had stretched out from sleep and was curled up in the girl’s fists at the sleeves. Her hands were tucked under her cheek as she lay in a curled position, not unlike an actual cat. Her small feet were bare, toes curling in. Yang felt an overwhelming urge to protect the girl. She settled for draping her brown leather jacket over her like a blanket before shuffling back into the kitchenette to make coffee, tea, and pancakes.

She had to stay busy before her dreams came back.

* * *

Blake slowly blinked her eyes open. The smell of coffee _and_ tea filled the room. Someone was clanging around in the kitchen. Their attempt at quiet would have been effective had she not been a faunus. Her ears twitched in annoyance, but she appreciated the effort.

Sitting up, she rubbed sleep from her eyes. To her surprise, Yang's jacket was draped over her.  It was warm from her body heat, but it smelled like citrus and firewood--Yang's scent, it seemed.  Blake breathed the smell in deeply, savoring it and it's calming effect for a moment, before assessing her surroundings.

It became apparent to her that Yang was the morning assailant, jumping between an electric tea kettle, a coffee machine, and the stove. The blonde’s hair was unruly, uncombed, and wildly draped around her shoulders and down her back. She wasn’t wearing pants but black boy shorts--leaving her long, lean legs exposed--and she had on a loose t-shirt. Her prosthetic gleamed in the morning light as she flipped pancakes casually. Morning was a good look on Yang. At least, from her backside, Blake noted.

But the dark-haired girl also noticed more. She was able to tell that Yang was tense from her body language. She had learned how to read people since she was young. Most humans weren’t particularly respectful to the faunus. That, and she became a quick study of _his_ moods for survival’s sake. So, she was able to make out that the blonde’s shoulders were drawn inward, tight, and she was standing straighter, her muscles clenching and unclenching as she made breakfast.

Blake didn’t say anything. She wasn’t particularly positive why Yang was tense, but she wasn’t going to ask. At least, she felt she didn’t know Yang well enough to cross that type of line. She was too far away, too much of a stranger. And Blake wasn’t sure yet if she should get closer. She wanted to--God, _she wanted to be close to that beautiful blond_ \--but she had to be careful. She didn’t have it in her to be burned again.

Instead, the cat faunus resigned to studying the girl as she softly clanged around the kitchenette. She felt safe in doing so as the sound of the shower told her that the younger sister Ruby was in the bathroom, unable to catch her watching.

Despite her tense state, Yang hummed along, rather poorly, to some pop tune. She swiveled back and forth in the kitchenette as if she had lived there all her life. She clearly had some experience by the way she balanced and handled the utensils and food. And she was just so energetic. Blake had quickly come to realize that Ruby, by nature, was _hyper_. She was fast-paced and bouncy. Yang, in contrast, wasn’t like that. She was energetic, lively, bright, like the flicker of a flame. But like fire, she was unpredictable, wild.

And right when Blake wasn’t quite expecting it, the blonde turned on her heel and locked eyes with her, pancake pan in one hand and spatula in the other. Her lavender eyes widened in surprise, not realizing that the cat faunus had been awake all this time. Blake blushed, hard, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t want to. Perhaps it was a challenge, a dominance thing. Either way, she leveled Yang with what she hoped was a friendly expression.

“Good mornin’,” Yang greeted, the corners of her lips turning up into a smile. She cocked her blonde head to the side, jostling her curls momentarily, before continuing, “I like the bed head.”

Blake didn’t realize it was possible to blush even harder, but she did. She felt it sweep from her cheeks across her jaw and down the back of her neck. Still, she didn’t look away. She didn’t even try to smooth out her hair, which she now was sure was a total mess. Yang put the pan and spatula down, turning off the small stove. She gingerly stepped towards Blake with that small smile. Carefully, slowly, she reached out. Blake’s eyes widened but she didn’t cower like she had outside Neptune’s family bar. Instead, she stayed incredibly still, holding her breath as Yang lightly brushed some of her dark locks into order. She pulled a few strands up and around her sensitive ears, back into place. Blake felt herself twitch out of reflex, and Yang immediately pulled back, hesitant.

“Sorry,” the blonde turned pink herself, “I, uh--”

“It’s fine,” Blake inserted quickly, almost too quickly.

Both girls were blushing. Both girls were looking at the floor. Both girls jumped when the bathroom door banged open suddenly, releasing a cloud of steam into the motel room. The red and black haired girl zoomed out, rubbing a towel through her hair. She grinned with a glimmer in her eye--one Blake was beginning to think was just her baseline expression--and said, “Are those pancakes I smell?”

* * *

After an awkward breakfast, a couple showers, and a change of clothes, the girls checked out of the motel. They loaded the _Harbinger 300_ up with their duffels. Yang took momentary inventory of their food and money stock. The cat faunus allowed her to include her own money stash to the stockpile. Yang took it as a silent confirmation that the girl was going to travel with them for awhile. At least, until she felt safe. The blonde wasn’t entirely sure as they had yet to talk about anything. She made a mental note to try to strike up _some_ conversation with the girl about how they had gotten to this point and what was next. She just needed to wait for a moment without Ruby and also to make sure she didn’t scare Blake away.

That moment was not going to be anytime soon. Blake took the first shift driving, and Yang sat in the passenger’s seat. But Ruby was there, sitting in the backseat. She had sulked for awhile because she wasn’t allowed shotgun. Yang had reiterated that the girl _should_ be in Patch. Ruby had tried to argue that Yang should be in Patch, too, but her crimson red eyes had silenced her sister. Thus, she wound up in the backseat. It didn’t take long for her to go from sulking to bouncing up and down with boredom, though.

“So, Blake!” she all but exclaimed, “Yang’s never mentioned you before. How’d you guys meet?”

The cat faunus subtly took her eyes off the road and threw a look towards Yang. Yang bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders, anxious, but she decided to throw in a wink to try to ease the air for them both. Blake rolled her eyes, but she turned to the road, glanced at Ruby in the rear view mirror, and said, “We met at a club in Vale awhile ago. Yang probably didn’t mention it because it was after she got into a fight.”

Ruby let out a chuckle before saying, “That sounds like Yang. So, you guys became friends, then?”

Anyone would have thought that Ruby’s questions were harmless, but Yang knew better. Her sister was fishing for information and she was using her innocent and oblivious persona to do it. People always assume that Ruby is naive, young. The truth was that the girl was one of the cute-but-deadly types. Yang supposed that was how her sister ended up attending a military college and designing nuclear weapons despite her bubbly nature. She had even gotten a scholarship for volunteering every summer of highschool with kids who lost their parents to war and crime. She had also written an inspiring essay on losing her mom, Capt. Summer Rose of Vale Police Department. Or at least, Yang had been told that part. She refused to read the essay, knowing her role in the ordeal.

Aggravated, Yang said, honestly but sarcastically, “No, Ruby. We’re not friends. We barely know each other.” It was the truth, technically, despite Blake's lie. They didn’t know each other. But Yang knew she wanted to know Blake. She had wanted to know Blake since they ran into each other, literally, and she had dragged the faunus into that diner. She still wanted to know Blake, after she had stolen her bike, knowing the girl was running from some sort of abuser, knowing the police were after her. Man, she _really_ had to talk to that faunus some more, especially now that Ruby was there. She couldn’t put her sister in unnecessary danger--not in the same way she would for herself.

“Well, how come you never mentioned her?” Ruby whined, “How come you never told me you were going on a road trip?”

It was becoming evident with Ruby’s expression that she was not going to let this go. To Yang’s surprise, it was Blake who offered a reprieve. The cat faunus barely looked away from the road or changed her poker face, but Yang watched as she readjusted her grip on the steering wheel roughly.

“That’s because it wasn’t planned,” Blake admitted softly before lying with a straight face, seemingly calm, “Your sister left abruptly because I called her in the middle of the night. You see, I got into some trouble with this guy, and I had to get out of town. She offered to help me.”

There was a prolonged pause as the young girl digested this. And then, “What kind of trouble?”

Blake let out a tired sigh. Yang bit her lip as she met her eye. She hoped that the faunus understood the ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ that she tried to convey without words. Even quieter than before, Blake all but murmured, “He was my boyfriend.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Ruby gasped, barely audible. She didn’t ask anything else but sat back in the seat, turning away after meeting Yang’s eyes apologetically. Yang knew her questions were based purely out of suspicion and concern. Even so, she was glad Ruby had enough tact to let it go.

It was clear that Blake was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Her knuckles had turned white with the force that she was holding the steering wheel. Letting out a small breath, Yang felt another pang of sympathy. She cautiously placed her hand on Blake’s driving knee, very lightly.

From afar, it would seem that Blake didn’t react, but she did. Her eyes snapped into focus and she glanced at Yang and back to the road. Her ears, which had been folded down from the weight of the conversation, had shot upright and forward. Her cheeks warmed. She still seemed uncomfortable, but her muscles relaxed, and she didn’t push Yang’s hand away.

Yang fiddled with the radio before finding a neutral station, keeping it at a soft volume so as not to disturb the faunus. She kept her hand on her knee, Blake’s body warm to the touch beneath her flesh fingers, and she turned to the window, watching as urban melded into rural.

The silence became less awkward as time went by.


	8. Chapter 8

Outside of the city of Vale, there wasn't much but rural countryside and scattered trees with the occasional small town from time to time.  Truck stops and strips of civilization littered the long roadways, not giving much to be desired so far, and Ruby was becoming antsy with the lack of adventure on their 'road trip'.  Instead, she took to asking questions and livening up the conversation.  Blake gave little tidbits of information here and there, finding it surprisingly easy to talk about the lighter stuff in her life, like the books she liked to read, how she grew up on an island as a child like the sisters, or her aspirations and dreams (had she never met  _him_ , she would have liked to have attended college for both writing and illustration).  And from Yang and Ruby, she learned an exuberant amount.

She learned that Ruby loved to engineer.  She had an  _obsession_ with weapon dynamics.  She truly preferred to blend classical and contemporary weapons designs into modern and unique 'toys' as she called them, but she was studying nuclear weapons engineering per the conditions of her full scholarship to Beacon Academy, the military college planted smack dab on the corner of Patch.  She learned that Ruby truly was the definition of hyper, having a dependency on all things sugar related and vibrating with energy, apparently since she was a child.  And she learned that Ruby loved her older sister, Yang, with all her might, showing kindness and concern at every turn.  But there was something there, some sort of tension or strain in their relationship, that Blake hadn't quite figured out yet.

Then, she also learned about Yang.  Yang was confident, open-minded, rough around the edges at times but friendly enough.  She spoke her mind, having seemingly no filter, and told  _terrible_ jokes.  The kind that were so bad they were actually funny--but, you couldn't ever tell her that or else you'd enable the worst.  And she learned that Yang had taken some general studies at Vale Community College but dropped out due to being unable to decide a major.  Essentially, the blonde was a free spirit and tended to go with the flow, having no plan or purpose.  She had worked odd jobs in Patch, such as teaching kickboxing (having trained since she was a kid) during the day or bartending at night.  

But there was some things Blake didn't learn.  She didn't learn how Yang got her metal arm or what Yang was doing, fighting, that night they met.  She didn't learn what made Yang tense up every now and then, or why Ruby sometimes appeared suspicious or nervous.  Then again, they didn't know about her and her past.  They only knew that  _he_ had been her boyfriend, had roughed her up, and she was running from him.  Yang didn't know why VPD chased them out of the city or about the enormity of it all.  And Ruby didn't know that she and Yang barely knew each other.  There was a whole lot that was left unsaid and a whole lot that was left implied.  It might have been for the best, Blake mused.

"Ugh, when are we going to see something cool?"  Ruby whined from the back seat, sitting cross-legged, pulling on her seat belt.  Blake was pretty sure she had asked this question a million times.

The cat faunus watched Yang roll her eyes as she steered the  _Harbinger 300_ into a gas station, zooming to a stop.  The blonde completely ignored her younger sister this time, holding that same rigid tension in her shoulders, and got out of the car to pump gas.  She lobbed Blake a few bills and said, over her shoulder, "Can you grab me some coffee?  Haven's still a long way off, and if we want to get through effing no where with short stack there, I'm going to need some liquid crack."

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Yang but jumped out after Blake, following her into the store.  She muttered something about needing to stretch her legs and to grab a snack.  Blake thought it was best she got some of her contained energy out.

Both girls were quiet as they perused the convenience store.  Blake made herself a tea at the self-serve cafe.  She also got Yang a large cup of the blackest, strongest coffee available, understanding already how the blonde preferred her brew.  Ruby smiled, watching her from the side, as she put together her own monstrosity of a diabetic coma-inducing iced coffee, mocha chocolate chip flavored.  Both girls circled around to the snacks.  This was where Blake wasn't really sure where to venture.  Ruby went straight for the candy snacks, grabbing a few bags.  Blake quietly picked up a box of nutritious granola bars for herself but paused.  She had no idea what Yang would like to have for a snack.  They had food in the car, but most of it was rationed from the safehouse and reserved for meal times.

Ruby must have been watching her again.  The younger girl smiled and softly said, "Get her the beef jerky.  She'll love you forever."

Blake blushed but did as told, grabbing a bag of jerky.  They went to stand in line awkwardly with their haul.  Ruby kept side-eyeing the cat faunus.  Blake kept her eyes straight ahead but she couldn't stop her ears from flicking occasionally, anxious.  Her eyes swept over to the store security cameras and then to both exits.  She observed everyone in the store--a couple truckers there, a family of tourists here--and tried to assess them all for any possible links to _him_.

"You know," Ruby spoke up, finally, "I can tell you guys don't know each other  _that_ well."

Blake looked to the smaller girl.  She was barely five feet tall.  Her short hair was loose and jagged around her face, occasionally falling into her silver eyes.  Such an unusual eye color, much like her sister, especially for humans.  It was more typical for faunus to have strange genetic colors or textures.

"I know," Blake admitted, looking at her feet, "Your sister if very kind--to be helping me like this, I mean."

The dark-haired girl was overcome with a wash of shame and guilt.  She had become very comfortable since Yang proposed they leave Vale together.  Unusually comfortable with Yang in general, actually.  Yang had a better idea, Blake assumed, of the potential danger her presence may bring.  They had met in an undesirable situation and the blonde wasn't exactly innocent, having a knife wound and all.  But Ruby... she was barely nineteen.  She was younger, smaller.  Blake didn't want to have her there, involved.  And she picked up that Yang didn't want Ruby to be involved either, seemingly for her own reasons.

Blake felt a soft touch on her arm.  Ruby was giving her a small, tentative smile.  Her eyes were kinder than even Yang's.

"Well, that's Yang," the girl said, weirdly serious, "She's always helping someone.  To be honest, I'm rather glad this is what she was doing.  When I realized she had left without warning, I thought..."  Blake watched the girl frown suddenly but then shake her head abruptly, "I thought she was doing something else, which is why I followed.  The real reason I followed."

"What would she have been doing?"  Blake couldn't help but ask.  She was curious by nature and sometimes lacked the self-control to reign it in.  She was also finding she lacked that control when it came to all things Yang.  She wanted to know the blonde more, to understand everything about her, what drove her, what made her tick, the whole nine yards.

Ruby dropped her hand and sighed.  She glanced at Blake and was analyzing something, measuring her up.  She seemed apprehensive, unsure.  But eventually, she had come to some sort of conclusion.  She started, saying, "I thought she would have been looking fo-"

The door suddenly burst open with three masked men, one brandishing a shotgun, another a pistol, and the last a large hunting knife.  Blake's heart began to thud in her chest as her eyes widened.  Ruby gasped, stepping closer to the faunus on instinct and dropping her items.

"Get on the ground!" The one holding the shotgun commanded, "This is a robbery.  Everyone down!"

Blake and Ruby did as told.  Blake dropped down, her hands flat on the tile floor of the gas station.  Her faunus ears perked up and angled, tracking the footsteps of the three men on instinct.  Her eyes darted around, counting one, two... six other civilians on the floor, not counting the cashier who was fumbling with the register for money.  Ruby let out a huff beside her, but her hands were placed flat as well, eyes angled straight to the floor, back rigid.  For a nineteen year old, Blake noted that Ruby didn't seem too panicked.  If anything, she looked annoyed, determined.

The sound of sirens outside had Blake grimacing.  The robbers would probably get in and out no problem without anyone being harmed so long as everyone complied.  But now that the police had arrived, things would get complicated.  They went from innocent bystanders to hostages within seconds.

From that point on, it was like in the movies.  The police demanded that the three robbers come out and surrender.  The three robbers commanded all of the hostages into one area and the cashier kept doling out cash.  Blake thought it was all pretty ludicrous, considering the small amount of money they would get from a gas station robbery.  Still, she ended up sitting with the other people, hands out where the robbers could see them, ears flicking every now and then.  One of the other hostages glared at her faunus heritage, but they weren't at the liberty to complain about their close proximity.

Blake kept quiet, waiting.  The familiar blood rush of adrenaline pumped her veins.   _He_ might have struck her with fear, but these three armed humans did not.  They had no idea.  The cat faunus was a ticking time bomb, waiting.

But it was Ruby who went off first.  The man with the pistol and the man with the knife were guarding them.  The man with the shotgun was handling the cashier.  As soon as the two men by them had turned to look out to the police, the small black and red haired girl jumped the man with the pistol, grabbing his arm and effectively disarming him with the ease of someone well-trained in tactical combat.  She dropped him to the ground-surprisingly with her size-and held the pistol to the back of his head, pinning his arm behind his back.  That mischievous glint was in her eye, but her grin was far gone.

Blake didn't have time to stare in shock.  The masked man with the knife lunged for Ruby as she kept pinning the disarmed man.  Blake jumped forward.  The man jerked his knife, snarling, " _Faunus scum_!"

The cat faunus hissed, twisting away from the jagged knife.  She spun on her heel and grabbed his forearm, slicing across with her other arm.  She felt her claws, out and gleaming, connect with his chest, ripping his flesh.  The knife brandished upward as the man tried to drag his grabbed arm down, but Blake pulled him forward, sending in an elbow, making the man gasp and drop the knife completely.  She continued to swing the man by his arm, slamming him into a nearby wall, and pinning him in a similar fashion to Ruby.

All was well and done until both girls heard the jarring sound of a shotgun loading.  Blake took a sharp intake of breath and turned--

* * *

The single sound of a shotgun going off was all it took for Yang to body slam one of the officers holding her and the rest of the bystanders back.  She shoved him into one of the patrol cars and leaped over another officer, sprinting straight for the gas station.  They called after her, but she ignored them, thrusting herself into chaos.

The hostages had scattered into the aisles, crouching low and hiding to the best of their ability.  The cashier had dropped below the counter, sobbing.  One of the masked men was laying unconscious, leaning against the wall, three slashes across his chest, bleeding through the rips in his shirt.  The other man was in a tussle with Ruby, a pistol laying on the floor near them.  Blake was no where to be seen, but there was a man, rushing to reload a shotgun, glaring at Ruby, who was currently winning in a hand-to-hand with the other man.

Yang glared, eyes red.  She strolled up to the man with the shotgun and tapped him on the shoulder.  When he turned, eyes wide, she snapped him in the face with her fist.  The man stepped back a few steps but growled.  He countered, swinging forward with the butt of his gun.  Yang dodged, adopting her boxer's stance, and swung an uppercut to his chin.  The man fell back, losing his balance.  Yang moved forward, kicking the shotgun from his hands and straddling the robber.  She sent in one punch after the other, barely holding back as her metal arm ripped the skin on his cheek bones, shattering his jaw.

She was so entranced that she didn't see Ruby get knocked back into one of the kiosks.  The other robber picked up the loose shotgun, aiming straight at the blonde.  He cocked the gun and went to shoot.  Yang looked up just as the sound of a gun went off, eyes wide.  

No bullet came for her.  Instead, the robber dropped the shotgun, grabbing at his hand, screaming.  Blake stood to the side, the lost pistol in her hand, having shot the man.  Her pupils were blown out, dilated.  Her hair was swept back and her ears were perked up, at attention.  Her nostrils were flared.  Yang could see shiny black claws protruding from beneath her regular nails.  She wasn't panicked or shaking.  She held the pistol with familiarity.  She shot with conviction, precise aim.

Yang wasn't sure if she should be angry, scared, or turned on.

But she didn't have time to figure that out.  Ruby scrambled to her feet, breathing heavy.  The other hostages stayed down for the time being.  All of the robbers were lying on the ground, two unconscious and one holding his hand, crying.  Blake turned to Yang, her eyes returning to their regular, round yellow.

"We have to get out of here."

"What about the police?" Ruby asked.

Blake stared at Yang, eyes begging.  The blonde shook her head at her sister.  Ruby stared, mouth slightly open.  She didn't argue.  Instead, she asked, "What about Uncle Qrow's car?"

"We will go out the back," Blake stated calmly, glancing out, "I see... five, maybe eight officers.  They'll send a majority of them in with a few in the back, on standby and manning the radio.  When most of them come in to assess after it's quiet enough or the hostages leave, we will circle around, low and discreet, get in the car and go."

"You say that like you've done this sort of thing before," Yang stated.  She gave the cat faunus a look, one that stated ' _we are going to talk about this_.'

Blake's ears dropped, folding back.  Her eyes fell to the floor and she slowly put the gun down on a nearby counter.  Her shoulders slumped.  It was clear she was overcome with guilt and scared.  Yang immediately relented, stepping forward and placing her hand on the girl's shoulder.  She rubbed her thumb in circles.

"It's okay," Yang reassured quietly, so Ruby could not hear, "I'm still going to make sure you get to the next city, at least.  Like I said, we can split ways from there.  I just... I need to know a little bit of what I'm getting into here."

The dark-haired girl nodded, solemn.  But her shoulders resumed their regular position, and her ears slowly came up.  They still drooped a bit but they weren't flat like before.  Yang gave her a small smile before turning to Ruby, who was watching the whole interaction carefully despite not knowing what they said.  The sisters locked eyes for a minute.  A quiet communication that only siblings could understand and then an agreement.  Ruby nodded, picking up her previously dropped items.  Yang raised her eyebrow, but Ruby perused the store and shrugged, a gesture that said  _might as well_.

The girls snuck out the back just like Blake had suggested.  When the officers entered the gas station to their mess, they hurriedly made a wide berth around, crouching with small, quiet but quick steps.  They went around to the sleek black, armored car.  Yang slid into the driver's seat.  Ruby and Blake slid into the back.  None of them closed their doors until Yang turned the engine, threw the shifter, and slammed the gas.  By the time the officers could react, they were peeling out of the gas station with a speed that only a  _Harbinger 300_ could obtain.

They were back on the road, no injuries.  The only evidence that any of that happened was the eerie silence in the car, and the sound of Ruby opening a pack of m&m's in the back.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it was about time for a Yang/Blake centered chapter.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Blake knew that this conversation was a long time coming. Still, she felt her anxiety spike, spilling into her veins and vibrating up her bones, raising the hairs on her arms. Quiet and stock still, she watched as Yang made sure her sister was sleeping soundly in the motel room they had rented for the night, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of Anima itself, already miles away from a gas station that seemed years ago rather than just that morning.

The blonde turned to her. Her hair spilled over her right shoulder, casting a curtain around her freckled face. Her lavender eyes were shockingly kind with a depth that was eternal and warm. She held out her hand to the dark-haired faunus, the metal glinting in the moonlight as it spilled in through the only window in the room.

“Come on,” she murmured, voice all smooth and velvet, calming, inviting, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Blake nodded but she didn’t take the outstretched hand. Instead, she curled her arms around her middle, hugging herself. Her shoulders shrunk and her ears were flattened. Yang looked hurt, but she shook it off as concern overflowed her features instead. She lowered her hand and stuffed both of her fists into the pockets of the ripped jeans she was wearing.

With a small nod to the door, the blonde lead the way out. After ensuring that the motel room was locked with Ruby safely snoozing inside, they walked around the corner of the old building and into a dimly lit sitting area. There was a small patch of grass, a slightly rotting picnic table, a worn out stone bench, and an ashtray with cigarette butts lying around it rather than in it. Blake frowned at the scene, lip turned down in disgust at how poorly maintained the little area was. She stood upright, uncomfortable in the dim light, the moon highlighting the forlorn expression on her face, magnifying the timidness in her bright eyes.

Yang lounged across the stone bench, leaning back on her arms, staring up at what little stars the sky had to offer that night. She left plenty of room for Blake to sit, but Blake remained standing. She watched Yang idly, entranced enough by her easy beauty to forget her fears for a moment.

The blonde looked ethereal in the moonlight, just as she did in the sun. Her curls were wild and untamed, like her spirit, with her aviators perched on top. She was wearing an unbuttoned tan collared shirt with nothing but a loose tank top beneath. Blake had become accustomed to her tight shirts and all they exposed of her abs, but she found she also enjoyed viewing the looseness of Yang’s current yellow tank. It tipped low, revealing a generous amount of Yang’s tan sports bra and the defined muscles beneath it. Her ripped jeans were also looser than her usual tight pants, but they showed more skin. In particular, there was a large hole portraying her left thigh muscle and the bottom of a pair of black boy shorts. Her combat boots simply completed the portrait, badass and serene, hard and soft.

Blake realized in her staring that Yang was waiting. Her eyes roamed from the stars to Blake, a small reassuring smile twisting her lips upwards, the image of both angel and devil. Blake tried to relax her shoulders, putting her thumbs in the loops of the black jeans she was borrowing from Ruby for the time being. She took a deep breath.

“So,” she managed, her voice shaky.

Yang leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, giving Blake her full attention. She kept her small smile on her full lips. Her eyes were kind. The cat faunus recognized that Yang was trying, really trying. To make her comfortable, to give her space, to not judge. But how could she not judge? Blake had shot someone in a gas station without a thought. _And it was not the first time she shot someone_.

She quieted her racing thoughts and kicked the toe of her leather boot into the grassy patch. She peeked at Yang from beneath her lashes, gauging her, watching. Finally, she found enough resolve to ask, “Have you ever heard of the White Fang?”

Blake watched as recognition carefully clouded the blonde’s expression. If there was any hostility, disgust, or fear, Yang hid it well. She simply nodded and said, “Yeah, the faunus militia turned mafia gang, headquartered mostly in downtown Vale.”

Blake nodded her head and shuffled her feet nervously, looking up at the moon. Yang waited patiently. The cat faunus began to explain, voice low, quiet, “I was recruited in Menagerie, where I grew up. By him. He wasn’t my boyfriend then, at the time. He was older, but we were close. He convinced me it was just activism for faunus rights.”

Yang opened her mouth and closed it. Then, she said, “I should have guessed that when you said you grew up on an island, too, that it was Menagerie. That’s where most faunus live, right?”

“If they want to be away from discrimination completely, yeah,” Blake continued, “I grew up there. My dad was… important to Menagerie. Leaving with Adam--” she paused, eyes widening. Yang didn’t say anything but her jaw set, her lavender eyes secreting red at the edges. It was the first time that Blake had ever said his name.

After a long moment, the faunus girl knew she had to keep going. Sighing, she said, “Leaving with him was the first time I ever left Menagerie. And I did it to join the White Fang. I worked as his partner for years, and we eventually got together. Not that it would have mattered…” Blake’s voice grew bitter, cold, “He made sure I belonged to him no matter what.”

She hugged herself again. The air wasn’t cold where they were. It was light, breezy, the warmth of the night tickling at her cheeks. But she needed the extra protection, the comfort. Talking about these things, especially to someone she was only just starting to become comfortable with, was difficult. It was like she was trying to push coal down her throat. It didn’t matter though, because she knew she had to do this. She had thought about just leaving, like when she stole the motorcycle, but she couldn’t do it this time. Yang had helped her so much already, even in ways she didn’t know. In a sense, it was just the normal, personable connection… Something she had not had in a long, long time.

Blake didn’t realize she was shaking until Yang had taken her hand from her side and steered her to the bench, gently guiding her to sit. The blonde pulled her flush to her lap, putting her right metal arm around Blake’s lower back side. The metal wasn’t as cold as she expected when it thumbed the side of her hip furthest from Yang. She rested her flesh hand on Blake’s left knee. Her lavender eyes studied Blake’s face.

“It’s okay,” Yang whispered, voice low and only for her, “He won’t get to you again. We’ll make sure of that.”

Blake’s heart broke at Yang’s words. Oh, how caring she was, how sweet. The cat faunus wanted to believe her, to hug her and cry and hope that everything would get better, but she knew. She knew, deep down, he would never stop looking for her and that she had simply just gotten a really good head start. Because the truth was, the story got worse.

With a shaky breath, Blake bit her lip and said, “The White Fang did a lot of illegal things in Vale. In Menagerie, it really was a peaceful activist group. But in Vale, it was factioned, ran by a different leader. Her name is Sienna Khan. She made a lot of deals with a lot of very, very bad people. And she did it for power.

“Adam was her second-in-command, and I was Adam’s right hand. We did a lot of jobs for Sienna, all ranging from armed robberies, to breaking and entering, to completing hits on officials standing in the way of the faunus. But the worst deals, the worst jobs… They came from Vale Police Department.”

Blake dared a look at Yang. Her eyes had darkened. They weren’t red but they weren’t their usual lively lavender. They were so dark, so deep, Blake thought she would drown if she didn’t look away. Instead, she looked at their feet before continuing.

“VPD hired the White Fang to do their dirty work all the time,” she explained, “In return, they left the White Fang and the rest of the faunus in Vale mostly alone. They turned a blind eye, so it was important for us to do their jobs and to do them correctly. But that’s why… Adam did so much for them. We covered most of their jobs because Sienna trusted us the most.

“But things were getting rockier and rockier. Adam and I… our fights were getting worse. He was starting to get sloppy, leaving marks in places that people could see. And I messed up on a very important job, one that we were doing for VPD. They had hired us to do a hit but it wasn’t on an official. It was on someone that was causing them a lot of trouble, I guess. Anyway, Adam didn’t give me all of the information on the target and I messed up, big time. The target got away, and Adam was punishing me.”

Her voice was starting to shake as much as the rest of her, but she pressed on, desperate to get it all out. Her eyes were swimming in fresh tears and she tried to wipe them off on the sleeves of the black shirt she was wearing. Her ears were still flat to her head. Yang had moved her metal arm to in between her shoulders, rubbing steady, soothing circles. The blonde never once interrupted her, letting her say her piece, listening intently.

Blake tried to open her mouth, to keep going, but a sob wrenched from deep within. She cried harder, giving in to her emotions. Yang pulled the faunus fully into her lap, continuing to massage her back. Her other hand tentatively combed through her hair, hesitantly touching the black cat ears and their fur. She murmured reassurances to Blake until she was able to calm her breathing enough to speak, “That was the night I ran into you. He was so angry, slamming things, slamming m-m-me. He kept saying he had to correct me. That’s what he always said. That I misbehaved, and I-I n-needed correction.

“But I couldn’t take it anymore. I fought back. I ran away. I ran into you, and you were kind enough. Yet, I stole from you. You gave me your jacket, and I took the opportunity to take your m-motorcycle, because it could get me out of town faster than my feet. And then I went to my friend’s… to get some things. That was the first place Vale Police were probably going to look. Hunting me to cover their dirt, to take me back to the White Fang, to _him_.”

She was crying again, though more silently than before. Yang kept comforting her, holding her, whispering to her. Her arms, even the metallic one, were warm around Blake and shockingly soft despite Yang’s hardened muscles. The cat faunus felt safe for a few moments, content to just stay there and let her emotions out, let her fears and worries out.

They stayed that way for quite a while.

* * *

Yang brushed midnight locks of hair around Blake’s human ear. The faunus’ breathing had calmed considerably in the last half hour. She was awake, her yellow eyes peering into the night, glassy. She was also comfortably laying with her head resting in Yang’s lap, hair spilled over her legs, the smell of vanilla and old book wafting up to the blonde’s nose.

Blake was in the thick of it all. She had seen some things. She had done some things. And she had a target on her back for a number of reasons. But even Yang could see that it wasn’t her fault. The faunus thought she was going to do a good thing. She was tricked, manipulated. Her innocent hands were bloodied, and if she tried to resist, he punished her.

And it made Yang _furious_ with rage. If she ever met this ‘Adam’, she was going to give him a piece of her damned mind. And no way in hell was she ever going to let that bastard near this poor girl again.

Yang jumped slightly as she felt soft, light fingers caress her cheek. She looked down to see Blake looking up at her. Her eyes were curious and her cheeks were streaked with dried up tears. She cocked her head to the side and one of her ears twitched as she continued to lightly touch the blonde’s cheek.

“Your eyes,” she said, “They are still red.”

Yang sighed, biting her lip. She closed her eyes and took several long, deep breaths. Moments passed and then she opened her eyes again.

“Better?” She all but hummed.

The faunus nodded, dropped her hand down. Yang gave her a nervous smile. “Sorry about that,” she offered, “It happens when I get… upset. I was just thinking about how you didn’t deserve everything you went through.”

Blake blinked at her, equal parts curious and confused. “What do you mean?” she questioned, “I hurt people. I stole from them, I slandered them, I even harmed them.”

“Did you kill anyone?” Yang questioned, following a hunch, a shot in the dark.

Blake shook her head, strands of hair flowing as she did. “No, only harm. He liked to be the one to finish them off. And I… didn’t want to.”

Yang nodded, jaw set. She took a turn and caressed Blake’s cheek, taking her time to trace her cheek bone, the side of her soft, pink lips, down to her jaw. Blake opened her mouth slightly, letting a small breath, a small “oh” out. Yang smiled and traced down the side of her neck, smoothing out her black hair, resting her fingers lightly on the little bit of collarbone exposed.

She supposed she should say something in response to this, now that she knew what she was was in for. Because damned it, Yang knew this didn’t change one thing. She was still going to look for _her_ , and she was going to help Blake, too, even if Ruby was there. If today told her anything, it was that Ruby can handle herself and had made the decision to follow Yang on her own. And Yang wasn’t going to let Blake struggle through this by herself. She’d help her until Blake was ready to part ways… Not that Yang thought she really wanted to see Blake go, if ever.

“Let me help you,” Yang found herself saying, “I’ll take you to Haven with me. And anywhere else after that, too. We don’t have to part ways if you… if y-you don’t want to.”

Blake’s eyes widened. She slowly sat up, but she didn’t eject herself from Yang’s embrace. She seemed dumbstruck, in awe, “You still want to help me? Even knowing what I did… knowing the danger that could follow?”

“Sweetheart,” Yang grinned, mischievous, “Need I remind you I had a little tussle of my own the night we met? I’m pretty positive I was chasing danger, not running from it.”

Yellow eyes narrowed. “And what does that mean, per se?”

Yang sighed, resigning her fate, “I suppose you told me all of that. I guess that means, you can ask me more questions, if you want. It’s only fair.”

Blake didn’t even hesitate. She deadpanned, “How did you lose your arm?”

Yang jolted, like someone threw a cold glass of water in her face. Blake’s ears dropped, her eyes wide, and Yang watched as she went to send a rushed apology, but the blonde held a finger up, pressing it to the faunus lips.

“It’s okay, promise,” she chuckled, for good measure, “I’m just not used to people being so straightforward like that. Most just give my arm weird looks and whatever, or whisper about it--it’s all very hush, hush. And kind of annoying. It’s refreshing that you just came out with it, seriously. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Blake relaxed, but she still looked a little sheepish. Yang smiled and decided to answer, “I lost my arm in a very, very bad car accident. The same one that mom died in.”

“Your mom--the police captain of the Vale department?”

“Yeah,” Yang said, “She was on patrol, actually. They were short staffed that night. She wasn’t supposed to be working at all, actually, let alone patrolling. I got into some trouble. She ended up picking me up once they figured out who I was. This was six years ago.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “Six years ago was a little into my recruitment with the White Fang. That was the year that they made a contract with Vale Police.”

Yang frowned. She said, “That’s probably partly why. There’s no way anyone in the department would dare to be corrupt while Captain Rose was in charge.”

The blonde wouldn’t believe it if she didn’t see it, but Blake’s eyes widened even more. “Captain Rose? As in, _the_ Captain Summer Rose?!”

“Yep,” Yang said, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

“Sienna _hated_ her!” Blake exclaimed, “She said Captain Rose was impossible to get around.”

“Yeah, she was damned good at her job.” Yang rubbed the back of her neck, kind of embarrassed.

Once the faunus had appeared to calm down, Yang continued, “Anyway, we got into a pretty horrific accident the night that she picked me up. That’s how she died. And I lost my arm when the vehicle rolled over, multiple times. I guess it caved in. The doctors said one of the metal pieces had sheared my arm upon impact. Pretty brutal stuff.”

Yang attempted to appear nonchalant, untouched, but just talking about that night brought on a slew of flashbacks and painful feelings. There was more to the story, things she left out. Gunshots and yelling. Terrible guilt, knowing that her mom, Ruby’s mom, would not be there if it hadn’t been for the decisions she made that night, six years ago.

Blake was watching Yang carefully. She was going to say something, but Yang had to move on. So, she said, “Ask me something else.”

The cat faunus picked up on the shift, understanding. She asked, carefully, “In the gas station, Ruby said she was happy you were helping me because she was worried you were doing something else. She was starting to mention something about you looking for someone.” The rest of the question was left unsaid--it didn’t need to be worded.

Yang nodded, looking back to the moonlight. “I guess that’s what it all comes down to,” she replied, “ _Her_. Now, don’t get me wrong here. Summer’s my mom. She always has been and she always will be. But she’s not my biological mom. Ruby and I are half-sisters, through our dad.”

“That would explain why you don’t look anything alike.”

Yang grinned, “Yeah, we get that a lot. Anyway, Rubes doesn’t want me looking for her because she’s, well, trouble. I was looking for her the night that mom had to pick me up, the night of the crash.”

The blonde turned to the other girl, suddenly very serious. “I don’t think Ruby has ever really forgiven me for that,” she admitted quietly.

Blake leaned forward, putting her arm on Yang’s shoulder, smoothing her fingers up and down the blonde’s collarbone. Yang wanted to shiver even though the faunus’ fingers felt like liquid fire to her skin.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

They locked eyes, and the night fell away. All Yang saw was smoldering yellow and pale, light skin. Blake’s voice had been soft, impossibly soft, and like the purest, smoothest melody. Yang searched her face and found nothing but reassurance and--was that hope?

The moment seemed to go on forever, but Yang found it hard to stray away from Blake. When lavender eyes fell on the girl’s lush lips, she found herself unconsciously licking her own. She watched as Blake traced the movement of her tongue, eyes unknowingly hungry. The faunus very visibly gulped.

And withdrew.

“We should get to bed,” she said, her tone breathy and husky, like she had ran a marathon, “We both have a lot of driving to do tomorrow. Goodness knows Ruby isn’t going to be pitching in.”

She stood, long black hair flowing down her back, and turned back to Yang, who was frozen in place by the abrupt shift in pace. Blake chuckled under her breath at the blonde’s nonplussed expression. She held out one of her long, slender hands. Snapping out of it, Yang took the extended hand with gusto and a grin.

She laughed, letting the sound float through the night breeze loftily, and said, “If we let Ruby pitch in, we’d surely die. Girl _can’t_ drive.”

Blake laughed with her, pulling her back to the motel room. Her hand burned a brand into Yang’s flesh, claiming her without knowing it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I have been busy.  
> Honestly, this is a pretty short chapter, kind of functioning as a segue. The next chapter will have more content and definitely will be longer.  
> I'll try to update more, but I am also working on other projects simultaneously.

Days had passed since the night at the motel and since Yang, Blake, and Ruby had left Vale. The three girls had grown considerably more comfortable around each other, reaching a point where they could talk and laugh like they had known each other for centuries. There was no longer any suspicions or probing questions from Ruby. There was no longer shocking discoveries about Blake. And there was no longer a tight coil of tension knotted between Yang’s shoulders. Each girl had become accustomed to what each other was--Blake melding in like she always belonged, Yang noted.

The blonde couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the passenger seat next to her, frequently. The cat faunus was sitting with the window down halfway, breeze catching her dark locks, feet perched up on the dash and car seat tilted back. Her golden eyes were sparkling with the sun, half-lidded, as she hummed to the tune on the radio. The girl was more at peace than Yang had ever seen her so far. And she was _gorgeous_ , as usual, pulling Yang in with her very own special gravity.

Blake took her breath away… and the small smile and wink she sent nearly killed Yang altogether.

* * *

With time passing, Blake was feeling more comfortable with Yang and Ruby than she ever had with those of the White Fang, especially Adam. She felt as if she could relax around them, be herself for once, enjoy the present without worrying too much about the past or the future. And it was becoming exceedingly obvious to her that she did not want to depart from the sisters once they reached Haven (which was coming up on the horizon). Blake just wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of her sticking around with the beautiful blonde beside her.

The same beautiful blonde that was _still_ taking every opportunity to glance at Blake, when her eyes were not on the road as she steered the _Harbinger 300_. The dark-haired woman had sent Yang a smirk and wink, succeeding in reddening Yang’s cheeks, but not deterring her from continuing to look at Blake out of the corner of her eye. It was like Yang couldn’t take her eyes off of the faunus, like she didn’t believe she was real or something.

But Blake found that she really did not mind the extra attention. Normally she averted the limelight, but with Yang, she practically relished in her glaringly obvious longing stares. Not long before, Blake had thought that she could not live a normal life, could not meet someone as sunny as Yang, and could not have the potential for someone to treat her as Yang has so far, with understanding and fairness. And she knew her affections for the blonde were growing exponentially as they continued to hit the road, but they were _reciprocated_ , as the amount of soft touches and looks between the two girls could no longer be counted...

The faunus was broken out of her reverie as they fast-approached the city of Haven. Ruby, who had been numbing her mind with scroll games for the last few hours, gasped and dropped the device, sitting up and pointing through the windshield.

“We’re here! We’re here!” she exclaimed, giggling and bouncing in her seat, “Oh, finally, something to see!”

Yang laughed, enjoying her sister’s glee. It didn’t take long for her to pull up to the outskirts of Haven. She decided to park on the side of the long stretch of road they seemed to have been on for hours, stopping at the top of a hill. Blake raised a brow but all the blonde gave her was one of her megawatt smiles. Blake watched as she leaped out of the car, jogged around, and opened the passenger door, a newfound energy in her step.

“Come on,” Yang held out her hand, gesturing, “You got to see the view from the top.”

“She’s right!” Ruby said, pushing on Blake’s shoulder, “Go! Come on!”

Sighing, Blake let the two sisters pull her out of the car, dragging her to the edge of the hill, which dropped off into a cliff and--

Her eyes widened in amazement. Blake had only ever been to Haven once before, with Adam. It was for a faraway job, in the middle of the night, shrouded like a blanket. The daylight did the rural city more justice. The sun showered the valley that Haven was built across, buildings cascading down rolling hills of green, crowds jostling across small, windy roads. The sun’s rays bathed the entire establishment in gold, and there was not a bird in the sky, giving the city a glow like a crown or halo. It was beautiful. Her jaw would have dropped at the sight had she not felt penetrating eyes beside her.

The cat faunus turned to see Yang in all of her sunshine glory. Aviators hid her lavender orbs, and her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, curls folding around her freckled cheeks. She was wearing a shirt with the sleeves torn off, revealing her biceps and full prosthetic arm. The shirt was brown with some sort of ironic logo on the front. Her pants were tan cargos and her black boots were dusted with the crunchy dirt beneath them. Her lips were pulled up at the corners, smiling down at Blake. The faunus didn’t know which view she liked best, to be honest.

“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Yang grinned wider, turning back to the valley-enclosed city.

“Uh, no duh!” Ruby cheered from the faunus’ other side. Her black and red hair was razored around the middle of her neck, bangs threatening to spill over into her silver eyes. She was bubbling over with energy, oozing it from the seams of her black t-shirt and frilly black and red skirt. She was wearing ripped stockings and a pair of soft black boots. It wasn’t Blake’s favorite form of black, and it seemed a little warm for the sun, but it suited Ruby, she thought.

The younger girl continued to exclaim, “We should get a place to stay for the night and explore!”

Yang laughed, light-hearted. She turned to Blake, tilting her aviators down to eye the girl. Blake couldn’t help but stare, enraptured by the other’s very being.

“Well, what do you say, Blakey?” The nickname rolled off of the blonde’s tongue easily enough, surprising the cat faunus. She couldn’t hide the soft blush on her cheeks in the broad daylight.

Blake nodded slightly, turning back to the city. “Let’s get to it,” she said.

* * *

Yang collapsed onto a mattress with a huff. The girls had gotten a room with two beds and a loveseat, perched on the second floor of some three-star hotel near the center of Haven. It was nice enough, with a separate room for a bathroom and a small kitchenette. The place offered a complimentary breakfast, which Ruby was excited for. Heck, there hadn’t been a thing so far that Ruby _wasn’t_ excited for. It was like she had taken all of her boredom of driving for the last week, bottled it up, and let it rupture when they arrived in the city.

Thus, Yang was exhausted. Ruby had led a sightseeing adventure for most of the day, only pausing to eat lunch. Now, coming back to the hotel room, after driving and walking so much, Yang was ready for a damned good nap, especially since she had plans to head out that night and scour the underground of the city, to look for any trace of _her_.

The bed dipped, and Yang leaned up to see Blake sprawling out next to her. The dark-haired girl looked just as worn-out, kicking her shoes off and pulling a pillow underneath her head, turning on her side, away from Yang. The blonde stared at the back of her head, nonplussed. Evidently, they were sharing a bed now. Yang attempted to be quiet as she turned on her side as well, but she was convinced that Blake could still hear the pounding of her heart with her faunus ears.

"Yang?" Blake murmured from behind her.

Yang bit her lip.  "Yeah?"

"Where are you going after Haven?"

There was a pause as Yang considered her answer, knowing in the back of her mind that Ruby was bustling around nearby.  Rather than be overheard by her younger sister, she decided to roll over, leaning towards Blake.  She answered the faunus' question, honestly and quietly, "Atlas, hopefully.  But to get to Atlas, you have to go by ferry, so Argus is the next city."

Another pause.  Yang held her breath, biting her lip in silent anticipation.  And then,

"Can I come with you?"

Sucking in a breath, Yang let out, "Of course you can."   _I'd let you come with me anywhere_.

"Okay."

And that was that.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't be able to post another chapter until next week as I'm going on vacation this weekend. Just letting you know. Thanks for reading!

Yang wasn’t sure exactly how Ruby had convinced them to go to a concert that night, but there they were, pushing their way into a rambunctious and excited crowd. The show was some super famous pop star that Ruby adored (and Yang and Blake had somehow both never heard of). It was supposed to begin once the sun set, and it was already so busy that they had to pay to park the _Harbinger 300_ and walk through the windy streets of Haven.

The venue itself was circular with the square stage cutting through the middle. Lights were strung above like lanterns and there was no ceiling, letting the stars sparkle as the sun settled in the valley’s hills. Several concession stands and bars were strategically placed throughout the circumference of the crowd. Ruby’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as the sky got darker and the pre-show music boomed through loudspeakers.

“I’m going to try to squeeze my way to the front!” the small girl announced before zooming away, leaving Yang with a certain dark-haired beauty. Her yellow eyes were shimmering with amusement as she looked up at the blonde.

Yang wiped her sweaty flesh palm across her cargo pants, eyeing the cat faunus cautiously. She wanted to spend time with her--she really did--but she had told herself that she was going to look for _her_ tonight, that she couldn’t keep wasting time. Technically, though, Yang had already admitted, in a way, that she was looking for her biological mother, that night at the motel. So, was there any harm in letting Blake tag along as she questioned some goons in the bars and crowd while Ruby was occupied?

She tried not to think about what happened six years ago. This time, things were different. She was older, smarter. And Blake knew how to take care of herself. Nobody would get hurt this time. Nobody would die.

_All my fault, all my fault, all my fault, it was all my fault_ \--

“Yang?” Blake leaned towards her, half-pushed by the crowd and half-to better be heard through the music that was now pouring out of the speakers. “Yang, are you okay?”

Yang snapped her eyes to the faunus’ and immediately grinned. “Yeah,” she answered, “Why don’t we grab a drink while Rubes goes crazy fangirl?”

Blake gave her a slow smile, genuine, but her eyes were knowing. She nodded in agreement and took Yang’s hand, the metal one, before delving into the crowd. Yang thanked the universe that she snagged the prosthetic, because her other hand was clammy and gross. The crowd was heated, and she was nervous with all of the noise.

It was a good thing they held on as they would have lost each other in the throng of people before ever reaching the closest bar. Yang was disheartened when they both let go, separating to push towards the front, but her heart came back to life when Blake had to get extremely close to her to thwart the onslaught of people buying drinks. The heat of the bodies around them did not compare to the heat of Blake pressed against her, her ears twitching, barely an inch away from Yang’s cheek. The dark-haired girl, not wearing heels, was about half a foot shorter than Yang. It was adorable.

“What do you want to drink?” Blake turned her yellow eyes on Yang again, bringing her back to attention. The bartender, a scraggly guy with short hair and glasses, was waiting for their order already.

The blonde pushed her aviators up on her head in order to better read the backboard menu of specialty drinks in the now darkened night. After a quick perusal, she said, “I’ll take a strawberry sunrise, light on the ice. Blake?”

Blake frowned at Yang’s choice of drink before turning to the man behind the bar, “Whiskey sour, please.”

Yang smirked before swinging her arm around Blake’s waist, keeping her close as more people pressed towards the bar. She looked down at Blake with a childish glint and said, “Heh, you’re sour and I’m sweet.”

Blake, unimpressed, rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away from Yang. The bartender served their drinks and asked with a friendly smile, “Can I get you anything else?”

Blake subtly elbowed Yang in the stomach before raising her eyebrow, in that way that she does. Yang eyed the faunus once more, mildly surprised. It seemed she had picked up on Yang’s actual motive to go to the bar.

Turning back to the man, she produced her biological mother’s mugshot from prison once more, like she had at Junior’s. She tried to shift it from Blake’s view but she didn’t miss the cat faunus’ eyes widening slightly, breath hitching in her throat. Clearing her own throat, Yang asked a series of questions to the bartender, all ranging from how long he has been in Haven to if he had ever seen the woman traveling through.

“--she’d be traveling to Atlas, most likely,” Yang finished before waiting for the last of the man’s responses.

The bartender’s mouth pressed into a thin line and his eyes hardened. He slowly picked up a glass to polish before leaning in close to them, and he said, “Look, you didn’t hear this from me, okay? But if you’re looking for Branwen, you’re going to want to check in with the local mafia. They are run by a woman named Vernal. I hear things all the time while serving drinks, and I’m pretty sure Vernal and Branwen have had dealings together.”

Yang nodded, pursing her lips. She glanced back and forth, leaned in herself, and asked, “Where can I find this Vernal?”

The bartender jerked his head toward the crowd. “You see that jerk-off over there? The one with the long, greasy hair and 5 o’clock shadow? His name is Shay, and he works for Vernal. One of her muscle goons, so be careful.”

Yang gave her gratitude to the bartender and tipped him well before turning back to Blake--who was positively mortified, stiff as a board in Yang’s arms. Her eyes were wide and her ears were stretched upwards towards the stars, her fur standing on end.

The blonde’s own eyes widened. She pulled Blake off to the side, around the corner of the bar, and out of the crowd. Placing both of her hands on the faunus’ shoulders, she said, as softly as she could with the loud music, “Blake, hey? You okay?”

Yang panicked slightly. She thought that Blake had given her the go-ahead when she nudged her with her elbow. She thought that Blake understood what she wanted to do. Did she screw up? Oh, God, what if she screwed up?

“Y-y-your mom,” Blake gasped, seeming to come back to reality from a far, far away place, “Yang, your _mom_ , the one you have been looking for, is _Raven Branwen_?”

That sentence gave Yang pause. She knew that having a prison mugshot might be questionable, but if Blake had heard of her biological mother by _name_ , then this was not good. Raven Branwen did not have a... reputable reputation.

She swallowed her hesitance and nodded slowly, meeting Blake’s eyes. “Yeah, yeah she is.”

“Oh,” Blake started to gasp, breathing hard, heart pumping visible to Yang, “She’s…”

“Not a model citizen?” Yang sighed, rubbing her thumb in circles on Blake’s shoulder, “Look, I get it if you don’t want to be involved with me for something like that. You know, you don’t have to come with me to Atlas if you don’t want to--”

Yang was thrown off as Blake grabbed the collar of her shirt roughly, pulling Yang towards her. The faunus eyes were wild and she started talking very fast.

“Whoa, Blake, wha--”

Still holding Yang forward by the front of her shirt, Blake closed her eyes and took several calming breaths. When she finally had eased her breathing, she opened her eyes and spoke, words low and heavy.

“She was our target. VPD hired Adam and I to take out Raven Branwen while she was in Vale for a couple days. She’s the one I screwed up with, the target that got away.”

* * *

Blake watched in horror as Yang slowly digested her words. The blonde’s eyes tilted towards crimson, once again seeping like spilled ink at the edges of her irises. The cat faunus had no idea if the anger was directed towards her or not, so she loosened her grip on Yang’s shirt and took a derisive step back.

Yang promptly stepped forward, invading her space. Blake’s ears flattened and she shrunk in on herself, goosebumps rising on her arms. Yang placed her hands around Blake, caging her in like she did in the alley beside Neptune’s family bar.

“She was in Vale for a few days?” Yang demanded, voice lowered to a deadly whisper.

Blake visibly gulped and shrunk more. She nodded.

“Tell me everything,” the blonde instructed, severe.

The music was thumping harshly around them, suddenly much too loud for Blake’s faunus ears. The pulsating crowd not far from them nauseated her senses. She tried to keep her eyes on Yang’s, half-lavender and half-crimson, steady, but she couldn’t hold the glare for long before casting her eyes to Yang’s throat instead, watching her pulse as it paced at an unusually high speed beneath her tan skin.

The cat faunus took a deep breath and--

_The city was no different than any other night to Blake. It was another day, another job, as far she was concerned. And despite it’s violent nature, it was a small reprieve from everyday life with Adam. She could still feel the phantom pain of the scar on her abdomen, the most recent ‘correction’, and she shuddered at the thought of going another long stretch without a job. Adam seemed happier when he had an outlet for his aggressions--one that wasn’t Blake herself._

_He was especially giddy with their latest target from VPD, Raven Branwen. From what he had told her, Raven Branwen was a kid thief on the streets who turned into a narc for awhile, but she turned back to her roots when she became a crime lord--one that controlled trades and hit jobs from Vale to Atlas. She evidently was a hitman herself, knocking off people left and right to gain powerful allies in the underground. VPD wanted her gone and Adam wanted to be renowned for being the one to take her out._

_And so, they had their job._

_The target was supposed to be in Vale for only one more night, according to their informant. Adam had somehow secured a ‘meeting’ by the docks in downtown Vale, a few hours before her departure. Branwen was under the impression that she was meeting a prospective new partner for illegal weapons trade through the sewer systems below the city. They were informed that she would have a team of two for guards, strategically placed around the meeting spot. Blake had been given the two guards’ location. Adam instructed her to incapacitate the guards as he stalled for time with Raven, giving them the opportunity to de-man her and corner her._

_But that’s not what happened._

_Blake successfully knocked the first guard out. She was stalking up behind the second, around the corner of a nearby warehouse close enough to snipe out the meeting spot, when everything went wrong. One moment, the sky was clear, the air chilled just right, and her pistol was pressed in her hand, cocked backwards to knock the guy out with the hilt of the gun, and the next moment, she was colliding with the side of the warehouse as someone body-checked her, hard._

_Gasping, Blake recovered her footing before falling. She twisted, reversing her gun to aim, but someone grabbed her wrist roughly, jerking her gun to the side, useless, and roughly putting the barrel of a .45 to her forehead._

_The owner of the .45 was a tall and thin man. His dark hair was scruffy and pushed back, greying on the sides. His eyes were narrowed and red, piercing. He wore a tattered, plain black and grey suit but he was armed to the teeth. Blake could see knives and guns in covert hiding spots across the span of his body mass._

_The guard that Blake was sneaking up on turned towards them, but the man with the .45 grunted towards him. “Get the hell out of here, Black. You ought to be up Raven’s ass now, no?”_

_At his words, the guard tore off, no doubt to alert Raven Branwen and stop Adam in his tracks._

_“Well,” the man grimaced, addressing Blake, “You’re just a kid. What the hell are you doing trying to take on Raven?”_

_Blake stared at the man. Would he pull the trigger? Was this it?_

_“Answer me, kid.”_

_She didn’t really have a choice. “We were hired to,” she replied, voice surprisingly strong._

_“By who?”_

_“Vale Police.”_

_The man was not surprised. Rather, he looked annoyed. With his other hand, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed a flask, taking a long swig. Done, he put it back and removed his pistol from Blake’s forehead._

_“Get the hell out of here, and get the hell out of the White Fang,” the man advised, turning away from Blake and walking away, “You’re too young for this shit.”_

_Blake didn’t count her blessings. She pushed off the warehouse wall, and, instead of backing Adam, she tore off into the shadows to their rendezvous point in the alleyways by the docks._

When Blake finished speaking, she opened her eyes. Yellow met melded hues of sunset and a hard-pressed mouth. Yang’s muscles were still taut but her angered breathing seemed to be slowing down. Blake hesitantly reached up to lightly touch the blonde’s cheek.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” the faunus managed, ears still folded down, “When Adam came to meet me, he said that the guard was tipped off and she got away. Apparently, she nicked Adam with a throwing knife in the scuffle. After I told him about the man, he didn’t seem all surprised. He said that Raven had a brother and there was a chance he might be hanging around, but he never told me that. I got punished for it anyway.”

Instinctively, Blake dropped her hand to one of her now fading bruises, her gaze falling to the ground. She only looked back up when Yang put her hand under her chin, tilting. Blake looked into full lavender irises. Yang seemed to have simmered out, but she didn’t step out of Blake’s space.

“I should be the one that’s sorry,” Yang said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Blake watched incredulously as the blonde deflated visibly. She had a worried expression on her face and she was chewing her lip.

“You can leave if you want, Blake. I wouldn’t blame you.”

The cat faunus shook her head. Her ears were slowly perking up. Yang had every right to be upset hearing such things. And, though Blake was scared at first, she was reassured that the blonde didn’t become violent, like Adam would have.

“It’s okay,” Blake responded, “I just… I was worried you would be upset with me. For that.”

“No, no,” Yang protested, shifting to step back, “Blake, you didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, well, not exactly, anyway. We already talked about this… None of what happened, of what he manipulated you into doing, or any of that--none of it was your fault.”

“Yeah, but--”

“No buts. It’s not your fault and I would never be upset with you for that,” Yang continued, sighing, “Besides, my biological mother is a piece of work. There’s no telling how many people have probably tried killing her.”

“And you still want to find her?” Blake regretted the question as it hung in the air between the two. She watched as a number of expressions crossed Yang’s face.

“I need answers,” was all she said, final.

Blake nodded, already decided. “I think I need them, too,” she concluded and turned back to the crowd, yellow eyes zeroing in on the man called Shay, “So let’s go get them.”

There had to have been a reason that the universe brought Blake to Yang, some ulterior motive in the workings of fate. She quite literally collided with the daughter of Raven Branwen, her previous hit target, on the night of said hit, after running away from Adam for good? No, her life had been full of too many bad choices and consequences for that to be a coincidence.

She had to put the pieces together. She had to have the full picture.


End file.
